Grains of Sand
by Bartholomew Kamiro
Summary: Some say it only takes a single instance to fall in love...or in the case of these two several. A series of loosely linked vignettes centering around Joshua and Marisa.
1. Prologue: An Evening Encounter

Prologue: An Evening Encounter

Marisa casually strolled through the camp devoted to the company under the command of the Desert Tiger. As she cast a glance towards the sky overhead, she saw a large group of clouds rolling across the sky, obscuring the pristine blue behind a veil of white and gray. A gust of frigid wind licked at her skin, causing her to pull the gray cloak she wore tighter. It felt unusual, almost restrictive to have to wear something like the cloak, but the Chief had insisted upon it. He had given explicit orders that everyone was to stay in top condition, which meant first and foremost that no one was to get sick if they could help it. Thus, while she found the cloak more of a burden than a benefit, she didn't say anything and carried about her business as usual.

All around her she saw several of the other mercenaries under Gerik's command setting up the tents for the night. The official word had been to prepare for a cold night thus the army had broken early despite being close to the Rausten border. A large fire was already burning in the center circle of the camp, overseen personally by Tethys and her younger brother, Ewan.

She stopped mid-step and took a deep breath, simply relishing the moment. While Jehanna was her birthplace, she had come to view the mercenary camp as her real home. She knew many female mercenaries had issues working in predominantly male companies, but Marisa never found it to be an issue. She was here by her own volition and nothing could change that. As she stood there, she took in all the sensations of the camp. She could overhear the grumble of the men as one of them accidentally forgot to hitch his tent properly and struggled to salvage it. The smell of fresh meat and flatbread came from the nearby storage tent. When she was around the camp, everything just seemed right.

As she walked over to the fire, Tethys glanced up and smiled at the sight of her old friend. Ewan didn't seem to notice; he was too absorbed in his spell book, apparently trying to figure out how to control the flames before him. Marisa took a seat on a nearby log only to have the general peace and quiet of the camp disturbed by Ewan.

"Aaah!" Ewan fell backwards as the fire suddenly lurched skyward in a mighty roar.

"Ewan! Are you all right?" asked Tethys, already by his side.

"Y-yeah. I just didn't expect it to react like that," explained the kid, still wide-eyed with shock.

Tethys let out a small sigh. "How many times have I told you to be careful? Even Saleh warned you to be careful when dealing with magic."

"I know, sis, but how am I ever going to get better if I don't practice?" retorted Ewan.

"I understand that. I just wish your practicing didn't make me afraid you were going to burn down the camp in the process," replied Tethys.

"Don't worry! I've got it figured out now. At least I think I do," clarified Ewan as he gave Tethys a nervous smile.

"I think that's enough for now," said Tethys. "It's getting late, Ewan. Get some rest." Ewan was about to protest but a stern look from his big sister shut him up in a heartbeat. He nodded before trudging off to his tent.

"That boy," sighed Tethys as she sat back down. Marisa could saw Tethys's gaze shift from Ewan's tent to her. "You look uncomfortable, Marisa."

She simply shrugged. "It's fine."

Tethys let out a light laugh. "Are you sure? You look about as uncomfortable as Ewan when I tell him he needs to take a bath."

Marisa didn't say anything for a moment and watched the flames dance back and forth. "It's…a bit restrictive."

"Perhaps. But we aren't under attack and this way you won't get sick," replied Tethys.

"I…don't mind." Marisa gave the fire a brief poke with a stick, trying to encourage some more life out of the flames. "Besides…it was the Chief's orders."

Tethys shook her head slightly. "Well, I'm sure Gerik would be happy to know that you're at least taking his words to heart."

Marisa's gaze lingered momentarily upon the tent that belonged to the famous Desert Tiger. She had originally never intended to join the company, but Gerik had been relentless with his requests, particularly after their little duel. She finally consented and at the time hadn't thought much would come from the decision. She had never been happier to be wrong. She was proud to be a part of the company and, perhaps more importantly, to have the trust and confidence of Gerik.

"…Where's the Chief?" Marisa finally asked.

"In his tent, talking with someone I believe," replied Tethys.

Marisa looked at the tent a moment longer before glancing back to Tethys. "Who?"

The dancer shrugged and gave Marisa a warm smile. "I certainly don't know. From the voice though, I would have to guess it has to be another man."

Marisa didn't say anything and took a seat around the fire. After a few minutes, she heard raucous laughter coming from the Chief's tent. Turning around, she saw the tent flap open to reveal Gerik chatting amiably with a man she recognized from the army. He had bright red hair and wore a distinct black hat that matched his coat.

"Haha! You don't say, Joshua. We'll have to put that little wager of yours to the test sometime then, won't we?" grinned Gerik as he gave the man he called Joshua a firm slap on the back. Marisa now realized why Joshua seemed so familiar; he was the prince of Jehanna. Though she had never spoken to him, word had spread to all corners of the camp like wildfire following the battle at Jehanna Hall.

Joshua returned the grin. "I don't know if I'm comfortable with that. You're a bit too observant for your own good. I'm just glad we have you on our side."

Gerik let out another loud laugh. "Fair enough." He turned his attention towards the rest of the camp and his gaze immediately fell upon Marisa and Tethys sitting by the fire. He slapped his hand to his forehead and shook his head, a small smile on his face the whole time.

"I've been a terrible host. Here I've had you to my camp several times and never once introduced you to any of my comrades."

Joshua waved the comment aside. "I've met several of your men already, Gerik. After all, many were more than eager to take part in some of my evening games."

Gerik shook his head again. "You and your 'hobby.'" He turned his attention back to the two. Marisa felt her breath catch in her throat when Gerik looked at her. Her throat relaxed almost immediately once his gaze went back to Joshua. "Well, the red-haired beauty over here is Tethys," motioned Gerik. "She's a dancer by trade."

Joshua offered his hand as Tethys gave it a brief shake. "Well met, Tethys."

Tethys gave a slight bow of the head. "It's an honor to finally meet you, Prince Joshua."

Joshua replied with a half smile. "Please, just call me Joshua for the time being."

"Are you certain?"

Joshua nodded. "We're all comrades here. Besides, I'm not sure I'm completely comfortable being called 'Prince Joshua' quite yet." He flashed her a playful grin. "I've heard tales about the dancer within the ranks of the Desert Tiger. I can see why Gerik would keep you hidden from the rest of the army," he joked.

"Yeah, you'd best just watch yourself, Joshua," said Gerik, eliciting a brief laugh from both Joshua and Tethys. Gerik turned his attention back to Marisa, causing her breath to stop once again.

"You've heard of the fabled Crimson Flash, haven't you?" smiled Gerik. "Allow me to introduce the masterful swordswoman, Marisa."

Marisa didn't notice at first when Joshua offered her his hand just as he had done for Tethys. She slowly reached out and took his hand before he gave her a firm handshake. She saw he had a playful expression in his crimson eyes as he took a step back.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Marisa," greeted Joshua pleasantly.

She didn't say anything at first, instead just giving a curt nod. "Same to you."

She noticed his smile seemed to grow a bit wider before he turned his gaze a bit lower. "A shamshir, huh? I haven't seen one of those in many years."

Marisa turned her attention to the polished silver sword that hung at her waist. She was a bit surprised that he had recognized her weapon, but then she remembered he did hail from Jehanna as well.

"I used one for a time myself," continued Joshua, "but I eventually decided to use a different sword."

She couldn't resist asking the question that immediately came to mind. "Why?"

Joshua rested his right hand upon the sword at his waist. "Shamshirs are light which makes them good for fatal strikes, but they also lack the power granted by a heavier sword such as a killing edge. In my mercenary work, the killing edge just proved to be a better choice for me."

She scrutinized Joshua's expression for a moment before finally answering. "Maybe."

He raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Maybe?"

She had expected him to drop the subject and leave it at that, but it was clear from the tone in his voice that he wasn't about to do that at all. "Lightness," she said slowly, "may result in less power…but if the strike connects properly, it can be even more fatal than a killing edge."

Joshua took a moment to contemplate this before nodding. "You know what, you're probably right. But I think even Gerik here wouldn't exactly call me the type to use something as graceful as a shamshir."

"Just remember it was you who said that, not me," commented the mercenary leader, prompting a laugh from Joshua.

"All right. I should be heading back," said Joshua. "Gerik, keep what I said in mind. Tethys, it was a pleasure to meet you. Marisa," he said, "perhaps one day we'll get to put your claim to the test regarding which weapon is superior." He took a few steps before he turned around and gave them a brief wave.

"I'll see you later."

As he left, Marisa watched him for a second before turning her gaze back to the Chief; he was currently talking about something with Tethys. After a few moments, she got up and retired to her tent to get some much needed sleep.

She turned over and got into a more comfortable position on her right side before closing her eyes.

_What a strange man._

* * *

Author's Notes: Hello everyone_._ I realize it has been a while since I have been here and that this story disappeared. I apologize for that and would like to say thank you for your patience. This past semester was particularly trying in many ways but rest assured I am back (as hopefully evidenced by this completed story). Thanks again for your patience, and I hope you enjoy the newly edited and revised "Grains of Sand."_  
_

I would also like to extend a sincere thank you to barefootbean for her assistance as my beta reader.


	2. White Sand

Chapter 1: White Sand

She had never seen such a thing before. In the sandy dunes of Jehanna she had seen swirling sandstorms and felt the occasional blessing of cool rain upon her brow. What she bore witness to now though, was unlike anything she had ever encountered in her life.

It was peculiar. She held out her hand and caught several of the white flakes in her free hand only to watch as they rapidly melted in the palm of her hand. She glanced out from the warmth of her tent and saw a blanket of the white crystals covered the ground. As the morning sunlight reached out from behind the mountains the very land seemed to come to life with a brilliant flourish of sparkling colors.

It was truly a spectacle of unmarred beauty.

Off in the distance she heard the sound of playful laughter. She saw Ewan and Amelia running through the white blanket despite it reaching up to their waists. It wasn't long before she saw Ross rush out to join the two other trainees. She watched with renewed curiosity when Ross suddenly scooped up a pile of the white crystals before molding it into a ball he promptly chucked at Ewan. The red head fell backwards as Ross let out a loud laugh. The apprentice mage promptly stood back up with his own white ball and proceeded to chuck it at Ross. The journeyman easily sidestepped the projectile only for it to strike the unsuspecting person behind him. The redhead suddenly paled.

Gerik looked at the white crystals that now adorned his chest before he let out a playful laugh. "So you want a snowball fight, Ewan? Consider your challenge accepted!" he proclaimed with a wild grin. "Come on, Tethys!"

"Gerik, you are such a child sometimes," sighed the dancer until suddenly a snowball hit her in the shoulder. She heard her little brother let out a laugh, immediately prompting a swift retaliation.

Marisa watched the whole scene play out from her tent with mild amusement. The three youths had quickly built a wall after the boss and Tethys's relentless assault proved to be overwhelming. Now both sides had slight mounds to protect themselves while they continued to chuck "snowballs," as they called them, back and forth at each other.

The wintry battle continued, occasionally picking up new recruits on both ends while others did their best to avoid getting caught in the barrage. She continued to watch with her stoic expression, unmoving from her place. As another gust blew through, she tightened her cloak around her.

As the snowball war waged, she allowed herself a brief moment of introspection. How often did she find herself in this position? She was the ever-present observer to the events that transpired, but rarely was she the participant. There were times where she wondered why she didn't stand up and take part like everyone else. Yet, she never did. No matter how much she pondered the matter, she came to realize that she did not know how to express her feelings. Gerik had once asked her if she stayed with the company out of some misplaced sense of guilt or debt rather than because she was actually happy. Even when she finally told him she was genuinely happy, the skepticism on his face clearly showed that he thought otherwise. It had taken a while for him to stop asking her, yet even now she wondered if he questioned her reassurances.

As she relaxed her grip upon the cloak, a brisk lick of wind grazed her exposed skin, sending a shiver up her body. The Chief once remarked to a fellow mercenary following a battle in Jehanna that had spanned both the day and the night that Marisa was so tough that she couldn't even feel the change in temperature. That wasn't true. She could feel the change as well as a newborn.

Gerik's remark that day though had also made her realize something; there was a partition between her and the others. It was like a stone cold wall that caused any who touched it to immediately draw back their hand. She didn't dislike any of the company members or the members of the army. If anything, she enjoyed the company of the others such as Tana, even if the Frelian princess did talk a bit too much for her tastes.

No, the problem was that Marisa simply didn't know how to step beyond that partition that she had involuntarily created.

Now, she was simply unsure of what to do. She had never started a conversation before, just as she had never been taught the value of sharing with others.

The problem was no matter how much she wished to be a part of what was going on, she didn't know _how_.

Thus, she had painted herself into a corner, much like the tent she watched the events from, and didn't know how to escape without making a mess.

* * *

Joshua ducked under another barrage of snowballs as he weaved his way past the wintry battlefield, clutching his plate of hot food close to his chest lest a stray snowball decide to ruin his breakfast. He wasn't sure how a little break on their journey had so quickly morphed into a battle royale, yet he didn't really care at the moment. Now if someone were willing to take a bet with him on which side would win, then maybe he would show a bit more interest.

As he made his way back to his tent his eye caught sight of Marisa sitting at the entrance of her tent, watching the whole battle carry out before her. He did a bit of a double take and saw Gerik and the others taking part in the snowball fight - yet she wasn't. There was something about the way she sat there that made it impossible for him to tear his eyes away. He couldn't quite articulate what bothered him about the scene, he just felt like something looked off. The way she sat there and no one seemed to pay it even a moment of thought made it seem almost like she was hiding behind some invisible wall.

Joshua looked back and forth from her to the ongoing snowball fight. She looked like she wanted to join, so why didn't she? Despite the growl in his stomach urging him to return to his tent to eat, Joshua ignored it for the time being and casually strolled over to the tent in front of him.

* * *

Marisa continued to watch the fight. Even after a half hour they were still going strong. Ross's father Garcia had joined the fray on Gerik's side, causing the trainees to go on the defensive.

"Enjoying the fight?" came a voice from behind her. She turned around and saw the smiling face of Joshua.

She was surprised and confused as to why he was here. She saw the plate in his hand and could only assume he was on his way back. After a moment she realized that he probably was simply waiting for her to greet her.

"Joshua," said Marisa flatly as she gave him a curt nod. She expected him to leave yet he remained there. Now even more confused, Marisa turned back and gave the man a questioning look. "Are you…waiting for someone?"

"No. No one in particular." Joshua grinned. "I just wondered why you decided to sit around here and watch. I'd bet that you're pretty good in a snowball fight."

She turned away from the fight and allowed her eyes to linger on the white crystals for a moment until Joshua once again interrupted her thoughts.

"Is this your first time seeing snow?"

It was a simply question, yet it struck her far deeper than she felt it should have. It was strange and almost disconcerting that he could figure something like that out about her despite having talked to her only once before. For a brief moment the stoic emotionless expression on her face was replaced by one of surprise.

"Growing up in Jehanna, I'm not surprised," continued Joshua.

She regained her composure and took a relaxed breath before replying. "You grew up in Jehanna as well," pointed out Marisa.

"True enough but I left my homeland for several years and explored the rest of the world as a mercenary. I remember I was equally shocked by my first snowfall. It reminded me so much of home. It was as though the entire world had been blanketed in a veil of white sand."

"White…sand," repeated Marisa as though testing out the phrase.

"I will admit, I never pegged Ephraim or the other royals to be so passionate about their snowball fight," laughed Joshua.

"They…certainly seem to be enjoying themselves."

"You should join them. I'm sure Gerik would be happy to have you on his side in the 'war effort.'"

"Yes…I suppose I should."

Joshua let out an audible sigh as Marisa returned her gaze to the scene before her. She heard a faint scrunching noise behind her and watched as Joshua suddenly chucked a snowball directly at the back of Gerik's head. The projectile collided perfectly, causing the Desert Tiger to spin around and lock his eyes on Marisa and Joshua. Marisa made no reply but suddenly saw Gerik scoop up a pile of snow and hurl it right back at her. She rolled to the side, just barely dodging the wintry sphere.

She looked up at Joshua who was grinning from ear to ear, his plate held innocently in his hands as though he hadn't done anything. She felt a brief flash of anger before she promptly stood up and scooped up a pile of snow. Just before she could throw the projectile at the red-haired prince, Joshua held up a hand to stop her.

"I'm glad you've finally decided to join the fray, however, there's one thing you need first," smiled the prince of Jehanna. Marisa was suddenly aware of just how close he was to her. If either of them took a deep breath they would have been touching.

"Here," he said and with a quick flick of his wrists Marisa felt something warm and soft wrap around her neck, trapping her hair at the nape of her neck. He gave the ends a brief tug to make sure it was secure before cupping her hair out from underneath the warm material as his hands fell back to his sides.

"It looks good on you."

Marisa was still shocked and surprised by the sudden contact. Her only response was to look down at the cloth around her throat. It took her a few moments to realize why it looked so familiar; it was Joshua's black scarf.

Joshua flashed her a smile and shrugged his shoulders. "You look cold."

Marisa blinked once, then twice. She was genuinely surprised and wanted to say something but struggled to find the right words. Before she could utter a word another snowball flew just overhead, forcing Joshua to duck for cover. She turned around and saw Gerik looking over at the two with his hands in the air to his side, as though asking "well?"

Another snowball flew towards Marisa and she promptly ducked out of the way only for the projectile to land flat on Joshua's plate. The red-haired prince let out a sigh as he set the plate down.

"All right, Gerik. You're going to regret that," stated Joshua. He grabbed Marisa's hand and pulled her along into the fray.

Marisa, unsure of how to react to the sudden contact, let herself be led into the fray by Joshua.

No sooner had they entered the battlefield than a dozen snowballs peppered both of them immediately from all sides.

"You knew they were going to do that, didn't you?" asked Marisa flatly.

Joshua could only grin. "I was betting on it."

Marisa eyes softened ever so slightly before she scooped up a pile of snow and promptly threw it at Joshua's chest. The others hooted and hollered at Marisa's sudden "betrayal" while Joshua quickly tried to retaliate.

As the fighting continued, she became covered from head to toe with snow, the fine white crystals sticking everywhere. Yet, despite the chilly winter air and the continuous flurry of snowballs, she realized she wasn't so cold anymore.

* * *

Author's Note: Originally this was the first chapter of the fic, but after some helpful feedback I decided that the 'prologue-esque' chapter before this was both helpful and necessary for setting the scene between Joshua and Marisa.


	3. Charms

Chapter 2: Charms

_This is really starting to get out of hand_, he thought as he stared at the contents in the drawer. _At least it's organized_, he thought with a sigh. The top was filled with various figurines and trinkets in the shape of various weapons while the bottom was littered with various animals from wolves to falcons. The entire drawer was packed, filled to the brim.

He couldn't really complain he supposed since technically it _was_ his fault in the first place. Well, he had gotten the ball rolling at least.

But could the others really say it was his fault that he happened to notice when they were in town to purchase new swords how she had strayed off _not _to a weapon smith but a small table where collections of pewter charms lay scattered about?

_Come on, this is ridiculous_. How could that possibly be his fault in any way? It wasn't his fault he saw her look through the various trinkets, her thin, calloused fingers delicately grazing over several. And he would be damned if they argued it was his fault he could read by her facial expressions the ones she liked and disliked.

And could he help it if he noticed she _didn't_ buy the one she was clearly tempted to and obviously wanted?

_No_, he thought. Or course not. That was ridiculous. So if he ended up going back to the stand later in the day and saw that the charm was _still_ there, he really could do nothing _but_ buy it for her, right? How could anyone blame him for that?

Perhaps he could have picked a better time, but still, Gerik and the rest of the mercenaries showing up _just _as he gave her the trinket was NOT his fault. It's not like it could be helped that the extra company arrived just then.

She was about as emotional to the small gift as she always was, in other words completely stoic. When she opened the small wrapping though and saw the little pewter figurine looking back at her, she hadn't been able to hold back the surprise and even half-smile that showed up on her face. She had been so surprised that even Gerik and the others noticed with slack-jawed awe.

When he thought about it, it really was her fault that the others had found something they could give her that pleased her. So, if the others bought her charms left and right then…well it wasn't his fault.

The charms were something akin to an unspoken tradition in Jehanna. Life was tough for any one who lived in the desert nation, leaving many with no choice but to become mercenaries in order to survive. He wasn't sure when it had started but several mercenaries started to attach various trinkets or figurines to their weapons as a sign of good fortune. The trend eventually became so commonplace that it basically became a tradition in its own right. Nowadays, they were sold to commoners even simply as a form of local art.

Some attached the charms to the base of their weapon, just where the blade meets the hilt. Others would actually have it forged into their weapon.

She attached hers to the pommel of her shamshir where it hung lazily on a short iron chain like one would use for a necklace.

The thing that surprised him the most was that she used each and every one. On Monday's she usually had the falcon Tethys had given her attached while Tuesday's were usually reserved to the simple sword Gerik gave her. On Wednesday's she had the miniature version of Jehanna Hall she received from Ewan. The mercenaries had continued to give her others and he knew at one point or another those trinkets had touched her sword.

He supposed it was her way of expressing her thanks for people thinking of her. He was especially inclined to think this when it seemed like she had a new one every week. It certainly didn't help when he discovered Tana had found out about it from Gerik. Soon enough Tana, Vanessa, and the whole army it began to feel like bought her some charm they found and thought she'd like.

It had become just about as contagious as his obsession with gambling. If you saw a trinket or charm you thought she'd like, you bought it for her. While he was glad that the others seemed to have found a way to relate to her, he felt irritated that they had taken _his _way.

Then again, perhaps it was simply the fact that some thirty or so of the things were looking back at him.

He carefully shifted the various figurines and charms, unable to quell the question that had been nagging at the back of his mind. No matter how much he sifted through them though, no matter how hard he looked, the one he couldn't find was his. The one charm he had given her, the one that had started all of this, was _not _in the drawer.

He refused to get her another one. It wasn't that he didn't want to; he had seen several of the pewter charms he was sure she would enjoy on his strolls through town. He just didn't want to be like everyone else. Once everyone started to copy his idea, it just seemed to lose its appeal.

It still didn't answer the question though. Where was his? He hadn't seen her wear his in such a long time. He couldn't even remember when he had last seen her with his.

Had she lost it? Did it break? Had she thrown it away?

"What are you doing?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Ah, Marisa!" he exclaimed. It was louder than he had intended and reminded him more of L'Arachel than he cared to admit. He hurriedly tried to think up an excuse for what he was doing in her drawer.

Marisa cocked an eyebrow before allowing it to settle back into her usual stoic expression. "Joshua," she greeted. He could tell from her gaze that she knew he was stalling for time.

"Uh…heh, how are you?" he asked in a cheerful manner.

She closed her eyes for a moment before fixing them back upon him. "Fine." A moment of tense, awkward silence persisted before she spoke again. "What are you doing?"

After racking his brain for an excuse, Joshua finally remembered his reason for being here in the first place. "Ah, Tethys asked me to get one of her bracelets from your tent for her next dance routine."

"I see." She looked across at the other side of the tent where Tethys kept her personal belongings and looked back into his eyes. "That still doesn't answer my question. What are you doing?"

He let out a sigh and decided to screw the lies and just be honest. "I was looking at your charms."

She gave a slow nod. "Why?"

"Er…" Truthfully he wasn't entirely sure what prompted him to check her drawer of trinkets. Maybe it had been the other day when he saw Innes of all people give her one of a centaur with a bow as thanks for her help earlier in the journey when he realized just how long it had been since he had given his to her.

It had been a couple of months now. _Maybe it really has broken…_

She continued to eye him suspiciously. "Was it a bet you made?"

He immediately snapped back to reality at the accusation. "Wha- No! Of course not!"

She raised an eyebrow as though to ask "then?"

He let out another sigh. "I…I was just wondering how many you have now." It wasn't the complete truth, but it wasn't a complete lie either.

She closed her eyes for a moment before she opened them again. "Thirty-two…no, thirty-three."

"Wow, they certainly caught on fast," he attempted to joke but could see that she didn't appear amused in the slightest.

"Ah." There was a brief moment of silence before he finally lowered his arm from the back of his head.

"I haven't seen mine in a while."

She cocked her head to the side. "Yours? Why would any of your charms be in my drawer?"

He blinked. "What?" He suddenly realized she had misunderstood his question. "No. Not mine, I meant the charm I got you, the one of the desert rose."

Now it was her turn to look confused.

The tension in the room was already thick enough to cut with a knife and the awkward feeling growing in Joshua wasn't helping in the slightest. "I just haven't seen you use it in a while, that's all." He tried to make it sound as casual and unimportant as he possibly could. He even shrugged his shoulders in hopes that she would interpret it that way.

He saw her reach into the space just between her collar and pull out a thin silver chain. At the end was the five-petal pewter flower.

"You mean _this_ one?" she asked as she raised it to eye-level.

_She's had it with her!_ he realized. Now he truly felt like a fool. "Yeah…I thought…well…"

She seemed to ignore his ramblings, as she held up the flower to study it closer.

"You had it all this time?" he asked.

She let go of the charm, allowing it rest openly over her chest. "Yes. I had initially considered attaching it like the others but the shop owner had warned me that the petals were fragile and might break if it were treated like the others."

"Oh…right." He remembered overhearing that conversation when he had first watched her at the stand.

She walked over to the drawer and cast a brief look over the various items she had acquired. "It must seem…silly to keep so many." Her voice was soft, almost wistful. She slowly traced her fingers over several of them. "Each one is a testament to the way the other's view me, I guess…" He had never heard the girl talk so much and about herself no less. He kept silent, half afraid if he said something she would stop talking.

"It's proof that they know something about me and think of me," she said.

"I think everyone would want to know more about you," he offered. "And more if you'd let them."

She didn't react at first until she nodded slowly. "Have you noticed that yours is the only flower?"

He looked back and saw what she meant. She had received several animal figurines such as falcons as well as several various sword and axe charms. No one had given her another flower like he had.

"Well, everyone's tastes differ," he answered. "I mean, flowers are already pretty subjective so it can be hard to get someone something like that without knowing exactly what they like."

She seemed to ponder what he said for a moment. "You noticed."

He felt a slight rush of heat to his face. "Ah, I saw you looking at it," he offered weakly.

She nodded. "I know." She returned the delicate rose to its place under her shirt. "You _saw_ me."

She walked past him towards the entrance of her tent, their shoulders barely touching. As she passed, he could detect the faint sweet scent of the roses he remembered from Jehanna Hall.

He suddenly realized just what she was saying. The others had given her things based on what she showed them, what she allowed them to see. They hadn't taken the time to watch her, to see the parts of her she shared without her knowing she had shared it.

She stopped at the entrance of the tent and turned back to him. "Thanks." She was about to leave and then turned around again. "Also, don't let me catch you in my tent again."

She didn't wait for his answer and closed the flap behind her, leaving him alone in the tent.

He realized for the first time that while she had always accepted the charms appreciatively, she had never actually thanked anyone for any of them.

No one…

Except him.

* * *

Author's Notes: This chapter was more or less inspired by my mom's obsession with salt and pepper shakers. The bit about the charms is not in game but seemed fitting for the type of country Jehanna is.


	4. Duel: Part I

Chapter 3: Duel, Part 1

"Hyah! Hoh!" Two clean slashes appeared across the chest of the practice dummy attached to the wood post. "Take this!" There was a brief rush of wind followed by a dull thud as the head of the straw-filled doll rolled lazily on the ground. He stood up and flicked some loose strands of his crimson hair back before eyeing his work.

The training area was almost empty, unsurprising considering the early hour. Outside of the occasional outburst from him, things were mostly quiet. She had arrived here before him by about a half hour to set about her routine of polishing her shamshir. When he did make his appearance, he gave her a brief tip of his hat before beginning his training.

She had silently run the palm-sized stone along the length of her blade yet her gaze constantly seemed to drift up to watch him. At one point he unleashed a powerful and swift five hit strike to the practice doll, completely destroying it in one move. Eventually, she realized that it had been minutes since she had last even touched the polishing stone.

"Is that all you've got? I bet you can do better than that!" She found it strange and almost amusing how he taunted the doll as though it were a real opponent. The doll remained unharmed though for the time being. She glanced up and saw that he was looking at her.

He gave her a wry half smile, one that was both a bit pleased and surprised but completely amused. "Do you want a go?" He offered a cheaper iron sword he kept next to his prized killing edge, fully knowing what she was doing.

She looked back down at her prized weapon and resumed the work she had abandoned minutes ago. "I do not."

As she ran the stone along the length of the blade she was aware that he hadn't resumed his training. In fact he hadn't even looked away the entire time. His wry smile had morphed into a playful grin. "I couldn't help but notice that you looked somewhat interested," he said innocently.

She ignored him for the time being and continued polishing her weapon. She could still feel his eyes on her, and she had little doubt he still had that same grin on his face. Finally she set the stone down on her right. "I see little reason in beating down an opponent who cannot fight back."

"So you would if you had a real opponent is what you're saying?" She looked up at him and saw a competitive glint shining in his eyes.

"The word around camp is that you're pretty good with a sword," he continued. She could swear that grin of his was getting wider. He _knew_ she wanted to test him, that she had been observing his fighting style and even hoped to test it against her own.

It was funny how it was such a simple statement yet it made her tense with anticipation all the same.

"Are you saying you want to duel me?" She framed her reply in such a way that it sounded like a casual topic.

"Gerik and the others aren't here you know," he said simply.

"What are you saying?" she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. "You ever hear about this?"

She gave him a curious glance. "Hear what?"

He could only continue to smile. "Well, it was a popular tradition way back when, at least for a while." His hand came to rest on the pommel of his sword. "Back then, when two swordsmen met on the battlefield, even if they were allies, they would duel to test each other's worth with the blade. I merely thought that it was time to revive that tradition," he continued cajolingly. "What do you say?"

She stood up to meet his eyes. He was baiting her! He wanted her to say yes! "…You want me to kill you?"

She had seen full-grown men cower into corners simply by those words alone. She had watched as her opponent's bravado and confidence was seemingly sucked out of him faster than a Nosferatu spell just by fixing him with a glare. Simply drawing her blade put even the most hardened enemies on edge. He didn't do any of that though. If anything, his reaction was the farthest from what she would have expected.

He _laughed_.

He must have thought she was joking. It was the only thing that made sense at that moment. However, as his mirth finally died down, his eyes met hers and she _saw_. He was completely serious. Now she was really confused.

Did he want to die? Or was it merely his way of coping with fear?

"Ah, you're just as serious about this as I expected," he said as another chuckle escaped his lips. "I'm not saying we have to fight to the death. Rather, it's what I'd like to call a test of skill."

A bloodless fight…after years of fights just to survive in the harsh deserts of Jehanna, even imagining such a concept was foreign to her yet he seemed completely serious about the matter.

"That's…fine." She held her sword loosely to her side. "As long as I can whet my blade's appetite, I care not for the terms."

"Ah, excellent," he clapped happily. "I'm so glad you mentioned terms as well."

She cocked her head in confusion, wondering what he wanted to say now.

He continued to give her that same amiable grin. "How about we establish a simple wager? If you win, I owe you something. If I win, you owe me."

She should have known. When did the he _not _bet on something?

She gave him her usual stoic look. "Owe what, exactly?"

He put his hand to his chin in thought for a moment before casually shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know," he said happily. "How about this? You owe me a favor if I win and the same applies to you."

She was still unsure of what he was betting with this duel. Bets involved money or some material object. He wanted to bet a favor though? "I'm not following you."

He cocked his head to the side in a rather good impression of her. "No?"

She shook her head. "No. But it doesn't matter. I have no intention of losing."

He flashed her a confident smirk. "Now you're talking."

She held her sword slightly behind her, prepared to react at a moment's notice. "Then let's get started."

He slowly drew his sword and held it to his side. "You don't waste any time, do you?"

She blinked once, unsure how to answer at first. "Weren't you the one who asked for this duel?"

He gave her a sly grin. "Heh, fair enough. I guess I'll have to do my best not to disappoint."

He charged at her with lightning quick speed. She reacted just in time and swung her blade in a crescent arc, blocking his downward chop. Joshua didn't seem phased in the slightest. She deflected his sword with a flick of the wrist. He spun around from the attack, leaving his back wide open.

_Too easy_, she thought.

She blinked in surprise as her thrust was intercepted by blind block with his sword. His back was too her, completely open, yet he had managed to predict her attack and block accordingly. He completed the spin and pushed her blade away with his superior strength. They stood opposite each other, much like they had at the beginning of the match.

He had a confident smile across his face. "Phew, not bad, Marisa. You're giving me a run for my money right off the bat. You must really want to win that bet."

She almost had the urge to roll her eyes. He was in the middle of a duel and he was still thinking about that bet?

Before he could utter another word, she closed the distance to him in a single leap, forcing him back on the defensive. Her attacks flowed from one into the next, like the unwavering current of a river. She struck high, aiming for the right shoulder before gracefully morphing into a crouch where could slash at the legs.

His sword blocked every strike.

She couldn't make sense of how he did it. His movements were rough and choppy, nowhere near as fluid or graceful as hers. There was no pattern to his attacks. One minute he would strike high only to _drop_ his sword and snatch it up with his left hand to go for her shin. His fighting was beyond unorthodox; it was nonsensical.

And yet he managed to meet her blow for blow.

The two continued to trade strikes in a flurry of steel and sparks. Only the sound of their breathing and the metallic clang of their blades permeated the air. At one point she had managed to dislodge his hat but he got her back when he slashed the band holding back her hair.

As they continued to fight, she became aware of feeling she had never experienced before. It wasn't anger or fear. It wasn't even frustration or irritation. It was much different than that. She felt light headed, almost as though she were fighting on the clouds. She felt _happy_.

The two swordsmen lunged forward at the same time. Both their blades clashed with a resounding ring. For a moment the world seemed to stand still in complete silence before both heard the soft thud off to the right. Both of their blades had landed right next to each other, only inches apart, much like their owners were now.

She could feel his breath hit weakly against her face, his disheveled hair falling randomly over his sweaty face. She became aware of his faint scent she remembered from when he had lent her his scarf. Her magenta eyes remained fixed upon his crimson ones, refusing to break contact for even a moment.

Both remained perfectly still, neither willing to make the first move. Finally, he leaned back and let out a laugh.

"Whew! After a match like that, I am more than willing to settle for a tie!" He plopped down upon the soft grass and let out a deep sigh of relief.

She was hesitant to do the same at first. The feeling was still coursing through her body, almost as though she were on fire. After a moment, she began to feel it ebb away enough for her to fall back and take a seat as well.

He flashed her a smile. "You're better than I thought."

She shrugged her shoulders. "You're not too bad yourself."

"Heh, thanks. You did kind of hold me at a disadvantage though. You got to watch me go through my moves while I had yet to see any of yours."

She nodded. "I'll admit to that. Still, we are closely matched despite our incompatible styles. No matter what I did I couldn't manage to land a decisive blow." She returned her gaze to his eyes. "I've learned, though, and that is worth far more than any bet."

He wiped off some of the sweat on his brow with the sleeve of his coat. "I see. You're a quick learner, aren't you? How did you get that good?"

"Fighting is all I have, all I've ever had," she answered simply.

"You live only for the sword then?" She nodded again. "I see. We'll have to do this again sometime."

"Agreed. I apologize for putting you at a disadvantage. Next time we'll have a fair fight."

He nodded his approval. "Don't let it trouble you. It was worth it in the end."

She cocked her head. What did he mean by that? Did he want her to hold him at a disadvantage? She kept herself from asking at first but the question still rang out loud and clear through her mind. Finally, she simply gave in. "What was worth it?"

"Your smile."

He didn't look at her; he had fallen back completely on the dew-covered grass. She continued to stare at him, unsure if she had heard him correctly. She hadn't noticed until now, but her cheeks were actually a little sore. It was the first time she had ever experienced such a sensation. She put her hands to her face and felt the muscles with her fingers. He glanced back at her and gave her a smile of his own.

"Just about anything is worth it if it makes you smile," he said casually.

She realized now the duel had been different from any other she had been in before. Duels had always been life or death ordeals. Even her sparring sessions with the boss had been different than this; she had been training, trying to surpass him.

For the first time, she simply had _fun_.

He got up and brushed the grass and dirt from his clothes and walked over to retrieve his sword. With a single deft motion he wrenched the blade out of the ground, caught it in midair, and slid it back into the sheath. She watched as he took a few paces back and scooped up his hat. He was about to put it back on when he suddenly frowned.

"Well Marisa, I do believe you've killed my hat." As he turned around she saw that it had been cut in two during the battle at some point. He placed it in one of the pockets on his coat.

She looked at the ground, feeling slightly guilty.

He simply shrugged and grinned. "Oh well, that's why I keep a few extras. Besides, I still say this was worth it."

She nodded in agreement, her eyes still reflecting some of the excitement and energy from their duel.

"We'll have to do this again soon. Next time though, I'll win our bet," he stated confidently.

She looked back into his eyes, her confidence not wavering for a moment. "I already told you before; I have no intention of losing."

"Heh, we'll just have to wait and see. Until next time, Marisa." With a wave of his hand he strode back to the camp, his arms resting loosely in his coat pockets.

She put her hands to her cheeks and felt the slight discomfort that was still foreign to her. After a few seconds she stood up and retrieved her shamshir. Before she sheathed it, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the lustrous steel. Though her face had rested back into its usual stoic expression, she could still see, and feel, the faint traces from earlier.

He was right.

It _had_ been worth it.

* * *

Author's Notes: This chapter drew upon the C and B rank support conversations between Joshua and Marisa. As a side note regarding the fighting styles of the two, they are drawn from the classic schism in Eastern culture. In Eastern culture, particularly China and Japan, opposing sides were often represented by two mythical and sacred creatures: the tiger and the dragon. The tiger symbolizes aggression and power while the dragon symbolizes grace and dedication. Often times, these two are represented in opposing sword styles in which one swordsman is aggressive and instinctual by nature while the other exhibits grace and practiced skill.

In the game, Marisa comments that she and Joshua have completely incompatible sword styles, hence the reason I chose to employ this dichotomy. Marisa assumes the role of the dragon, practiced and graceful, while Joshua assumes the role of the instinctual tiger.


	5. Sociable

Chapter 4: Sociable

"…What?"

Joshua twitched slightly as her voice shook him from his blank stupor. Though it was a small reaction, it was all she needed to know he was surprised by her sudden question.

"Sorry, come again?" he replied.

She didn't even roll her eyes or sigh, though it was rather tempting at the moment. "You're staring."

He let out a small laugh as his hand fidgeted with the hair on the back of his head. "What makes you say that?"

She closed her eyes for a brief moment before focusing them back upon him. "You're looking at me strangely," she answered.

He gave a brief nod and smiled. "Ah, I suppose you're right."

She raised an eyebrow. "So?" He was still avoiding her gaze. "What is it?"

His hand pulled away from his hair and found a new home in his coat pocket. "It's just, well…" She continued to give him the same stoic stare she always used, prompting him to continue. He shrugged and said it as simply as he could; "you're pouting."

She blinked once, then twice, as though she wasn't sure she hadn't heard him right. He continued to stand there though, an innocent grin on his face while his right hand had gone back to fidgeting with his hair. At first, she was just surprised by his comment but quickly dismissed it. It wasn't that she was bothered by his astute and correct observation, as it was that she simply didn't want this conversation to drag on any further.

She let out a soft breath and looked back at him. "So?"

He shrugged his shoulders, seemingly unsure of how to answer. Satisfied that the conversation was over, she turned back to staring blankly at the tents off in the distance that marked where Gerik and the other mercenaries camped. It was still fairly early in the morning she noted as the sun just began to fully emerge from behind the hills. The camp would likely come to life pretty soon and then the regular hustle and bustle would commence.

She rested her head in her hands and let out a huff of frustration. It didn't seem right that she was so angry at the moment, yet she was. Perhaps it was not so much that it was wrong, as it was unusual. From an early age her father had taught her the importance of emotional restraint. Emotions, he had told her in a gruff voice, will invariably distract a swordsman in the most critical moment of battle. No matter how much she focused on steadying her breathing, or calming her mind, or even distracting herself with something else, she could not shake the quiver of anger that ran through her body.

She sought to be the best mercenary she could possibly be. For a commoner from Jehanna, this was the ultimate goal, and it was for that reason that she joined the ranks of the Desert Tiger. His company was considered to be one of, if not _the_, strongest mercenary company in the desert nation short of possibly the palace warriors. Her father had always spoken of following great people. Great people learn from watching the backs of other great people he told her one evening on the rooftop of their hut in the desert. She still remembered how the fiery orange color of the sunset seemed to make the sand sparkle like the stars that slowly revealed themselves in the night sky.

She had joined the company and followed every order she had been given. She sparred regularly against the chief in hopes of one day equaling, and eventually surpassing him. His words to the company, his actions towards his fellow men and women, she watched everything, believing that one day all of it would guide her further up the mountain before her.

So when Gerik had asked her to be more sociable, she was admittedly somewhat surprised. It was a _strange_ order to say the least, yet orders were orders. She knew it wasn't going to be easy and she had practiced to improve, yet…

A glint of gold suddenly caught her attention. She saw it again and followed it only to see a black hat set atop a mat of crimson hair resting against the boulder she was perched upon. He had been here this whole time? The gold coin spun through the air with a metallic ring once again before landing with a soft smack back in the center of his palm.

He let out an exaggerated sigh. "Tails again? Lady Luck certainly seems to have abandoned me of late."

She attempted to ignore him and turned back to glare at the tents in an attempt to resume where she had left off in her thoughts. At the moment though, all she could draw was a blank. She could feel the weight of Joshua's stare on her again. She didn't say anything, simply hoping that he would take the hint and leave her be.

He didn't leave though. He smiled and rested his head back upon the rock. "You must be pretty angry right now."

His words pierced through her veil of frustration, causing her to stare at him in slight shock. After a moment she finally figured out how to use her voice again. "What makes you say that?"

He glanced back at her. "For one, you _never_ slouch when you sit and you've been doing it this whole time. And I would bet Lady Luck that you never fail to notice your surroundings, yet you didn't even react when I sat down." She could feel his eyes follow her as she turned away. "If it's eating at you that bad, why don't you just talk about it?"

Talk about it? The idea sounded completely foreign to her. Furthermore, what was there to talk about? To talk about it seemed wrong; it was to admit that she was being…well, _emotional._ Yet, there was something about the statement that tugged at her, urging her to consider his proposition. Perhaps it was the tinge of concern she heard in his voice or something much deeper within her subconscious, she wasn't sure.

She looked back and saw he was smiling at her. He leaned forward and held the gold piece before her.

"How about this?" he offered. "We flip this coin, and if I win you tell me what's going on. If you win, I'll leave you to your staring contest with the tent."

She shrugged. What did she have to lose at this point? "Fine."

His smile widened as a playful glint shown in his eyes. "Excellent. What'll it be, heads or tails?

"Heads."

The coin flew into the air until he caught it halfway down its descent and slapped it onto his arm. Slowly, he removed his hand to reveal the coin.

It was…tails.

"Looks like I win the bet," he smirked happily. He gave her a knowing look. Part of her wished she hadn't given in to his hobby so easily.

She suppressed the urge to sigh. "The chief…told me I needed to be more…sociable."

Joshua's face donned an amused look. "All right. So what happened next?"

Marisa really didn't want to talk about this. She already felt like she had said too much. To say anymore felt almost humiliating. She had however, lost the bet and agreed to the terms. To turn away from a fair bet despite her agreement seemed an even greater dishonor and humiliation to her pride than to simply talk.

She let out a little huff and continued. "I …practiced for several days. When I saw him this morning…I…decided to show him my progress." Marisa spoke slowly and softly, the frustration evident in her tone.

She took a deeper breath. "He laughed at me."

"And you're upset as a consequence," he stated matter-of-factly as he took a seat next to her on the boulder.

She gave a curt nod but didn't say anything for a minute. "I shouldn't be though."

He let out a light laugh. "You _would _answer that way." He had a playful smile on his face. "What on earth do you mean you _shouldn't _be?"

"It was his order. I am a member of the mercenary company and therefore have to follow the chief's orders," she replied simply.

He nodded. "Spoken like a true mercenary." He flipped the coin and caught it once again. "Why is it wrong for you to be upset?"

She blinked, unsure what he was getting at. "…What do you mean?"

He shrugged, a shadow of his playful smile still on his face. "When people are angry with their rulers, they revolt. When a child is frustrated with his parent, he lashes out. I'm just saying there's nothing wrong with being a bit upset."

"I'm not upset," she countered a little too quickly. She turned away for a moment, not saying anything for a couple of minutes. "Do _you_…think I need to be more sociable?"

She tensed when she heard him suddenly let out a rather loud laugh. When she turned to look back at him, his mirth had died down to the point where he was left with just a smile. It wasn't condescending though; it was…_different_. It was like he was pleased but not conceited.

She was only now aware of how close his face was to hers, so much so that she could see every strand of hair that fell gracelessly over his forehead. She could detect the faint scent of cinnamon on his breath, briefly stirring up memories of the desert nation she called home.

"Aren't we _already_ being pretty sociable?" he remarked.

She deadpanned for a moment upon hearing his rhetorical question. He continued to smile, his gaze never leaving her eyes for a moment as he leaned back. For some reason, his question eased some of the anger and frustration she had been feeling.

"I…suppose we are," she responded. It felt a bit awkward to say it and Joshua must not have missed it as he proceeded to laugh a bit more.

He turned away for a moment and looked over the tents she had been glaring at earlier. "You seem relieved," he commented.

She gave a curt nod. "I guess…I am."

She saw the grin on his face fade away until it was replaced by a more pensive expression. "I suppose it would be a relief to know that it's okay to just…be you."

As he sat back upon the boulder she couldn't help but notice the slight tinge of sadness in his eyes. "Isn't that a given?" she asked.

"Is it?" he responded, a sad smile on his face.

She blinked as she realized what he was getting at. Her anger wasn't simply because Gerik had laughed at her attempts at being sociable; it was because she felt like he was laughing at _her_. It was as though in that one act, he had called into question the very integrity of who she was. It had even made her upset enough to feel like she needed to change. While she was sure that wasn't the chief's intentions, it didn't change the impact it had upon her.

As she mulled over her conversation, she realized Joshua was right. There was something relieving, like lifting a great weight off of one's shoulders, in realizing that it was fine to simply be…you.

She glanced back and saw that he was now grinning, any trace of that sad smile seemed to have been wiped clean from his face.

Without another word, Joshua suddenly stood up and let out a sigh as he stretched for a moment. The sun had risen over the tents; she was aware of the scraping of armor being prepared and the general sound of the other soldiers exchanging morning greetings. As the shadows dissolved under the sun's influence, she closed her eyes and felt her own anger and frustration vanish along with them.

She saw him turn back and was surprised to see an expression of serious concern upon his face.

"You know," he stated casually, "if something's ever bothering you, I'm here." His face broke into a sympathetic smile as his hand once again went to the back of his head. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, if there's ever anything I can do to help, just…"

His statement trailed off when he saw her briefly nod, drawing a lopsided smile from him.

She stood up and brushed off her clothes and walked by him, their shoulders just barely grazing like a gentle breeze brushing against one's face.

The sound of the other soldiers and recruits started to fill the once silent air of the camp. She looked back into his crimson eyes with her magenta ones.

"You already have."

* * *

Author's Notes: This one drew upon the Marisa and Gerik support conversations, save with a twist. This one was tricky, ironically, because I didn't want Marisa to come off as too sociable too early.


	6. Dreams and Expectations

Chapter 5: Dreams and Expectations

He stepped lightly through the camp; the only sound filling the night air came from the soft crunch of the cold grass under the heels of his boots. His eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness surrounding him, allowing him to easily avoid the ropes and pegs holding the tents that housed his comrades. He carefully weaved and ducked through the ropes that held up Gerik's portion of the camp until he finally came to edge of the encampment. As his grip tightened upon the weight in his right hand, he cast one last glance back before starting up the hill.

He walked for a few minutes until he eventually came upon the campfire that had been used earlier that day to prepare the fresh doe and rabbit caught from a nearby forest. As he took a seat on a log that lined the perimeter of the fire pit, he could still feel the faint heat from the blackened wood. A cool gust of wind blew past him, sending a brief chill throughout his body and pushing his crimson hair every which way. He allowed himself a half smile upon realizing that he had forgotten his hat back in camp. His coat remained loose and unbuttoned over his bare upper body, revealing the figure years of fierce combat had carved out of him.

After a moment he set the item in his right hand gently on the ground and stood up. He gave a quick glance around the area and found the leftover wood that had been collected for the fire as well as the flint. A few minutes of silence passed as he threw the remaining firewood into the pit followed by the tinder. After a few strikes from the flint, the fire managed to catch and gave him a modest sized flame, enough to keep him warm.

He sat down and let out a brief sigh. His hand ran through his hair as he stared into the fire, watching the flames dance back and forth across the wood. Involuntarily his gaze shifted to the long, cloth wrapped item resting lazily in the grass. In all honesty, he wasn't sure why he had brought it with him in the first place. He remembered a nagging feeling that encouraged him to bring it along with him just in case. Of course, what could he do with it out here?

Slowly, almost hesitantly, his hand went for the cloth-wrapped bundle. His fingers tightened around the red cord securing the package. With a soft grunt he pulled it up and set the item across his lap, his fingers fidgeting with the knot securing the cloth.

"_Please forgive me…I was so foolish…please understand…"_

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memory of her voice. His brief jostle caused several strands of his hair to fall in front of his eyes. He didn't even bother trying to brush them aside for the time being.

He heard footsteps behind him. They were soft, yet amidst the crackling fire stood out in sharp contrast to the rest of the surroundings.

He spun around, his hand instinctively going for the sword at his waist only to find it wasn't there. It was then that he remembered he had left his bed in little more than his pants and his boots. His coat had been thrown on more as an afterthought when he felt the wind.

"Out again?"

Joshua just about wanted to smack his forehead with his palm but resisted, instead letting out all the tension in one big sigh. He hadn't been expecting company, and if he had been, he certainly hadn't expected it to be her.

"Again?" he gave her a half smile. "Have you been following me?"

Marisa regarded him with a blank expression before she simply shrugged her shoulders and walked past him. She took a seat on the log and simply stared into the fire until he finally joined her.

"The past few nights you've tripped outside my tent a couple of times both on your way out and your way back," she stated.

He looked down briefly. "You must be a fairly light sleeper. My apologies for waking you." He leaned back for a moment and grinned at her. "Although, you might want to consider telling Gerik he should stop placing the tents so close to one another. It makes it harder to get out."

She picked up a nearby stick and prodded the fire, turning over a mostly burnt log and exposing a fresh one to the yellow and orange flames. "The chief likes to keep his men close so that they can react quickly if danger presents itself." She watched as the fire grew in size, listening to the crackles and snaps from the wood for a few moments. "I do grow tired of having them so close though. The chief is a horrible snorer."

He could feel his grin widen as a wave of laughter racked his body. The image of a snoring Gerik proved to be far more entertaining than it should have at that point. He could only assume part of it had to do with his current sleep-deprived state. "Is that so? I'll have to ask him if the Desert Tiger title comes from his fighting or his sleeping habits."

As he glanced back, he thought he saw a bit of mirth flicker briefly in her eyes before it died down as fast as it appeared. "Perhaps. If you don't stop tripping over yourself though, you may surpass him."

He gave her a look of mock offense. "For the record, I didn't trip once this evening."

She didn't make any response at first. "Why have you been leaving the camp in the middle of the night?"

He looked back and saw her gaze now rested upon him. He was particularly taken aback by how the flames from the fire seemed to almost dance in her eyes, making the magenta color even more vibrant than usual. Perhaps it was a trick of the light or just the result of mental exhaustion but he could have sworn she looked almost _concerned_.

"I just needed some fresh air, that's all," he said casually.

He saw her raise an eyebrow. "For the past five nights in a row?"

Now it was his turn to shrug his shoulders. "I just…enjoy the night air, the surroundings."

"You never did this before."

Her expression hadn't budged an inch. He let out a sigh. "Rausten is nice this time of year. Why not savor the weather while we still can?"

She finally looked away and directed her attention back to the fire. She retrieved her stick from earlier and poked the fire here and there, encouraging it to roar back to the modest size it had been earlier. He let out another sigh and reached into the satchel he always kept strung to the back of his belt. It held everything he thought he would ever need including his set of ivory dice, a reserve roll of gold coins, and the items he was looking for.

Out of his peripheral vision he saw Marisa's eyes flash an unexpected look of surprise. He couldn't help but smile.

"Arak?" she asked, her eyes focused upon the small bottle containing the milky white liquid in his hand.

He nodded. "I always keep some of it with me wherever I go. It serves as a reminder of home, even when I'm miles away," he finished as a sad smile crept onto his face. "Would you like a bit?"

She blinked once before she gave a slight nod. He retrieved the two small wooden cups he kept in there, each only a few inches across at best and poured two shots. He handed the white liquid to her. As was tradition, he raised his glass and watched as she copied him before downing the drink in one gulp. The anise-flavored drink ran along his tongue and elicited a burning feeling in his throat.

Marisa offered him back the cup. "It…really does seem to carry memories of Jehanna in it."

He took her cup and returned the cups along with the bottle to the satchel. "Yeah." He glanced back and saw she regarded him with a curious expression for a moment before turning back to the fire.

"What is it?" he asked.

She continued to stare at the fire for a moment before she turned back to him. "It's the first time I've ever seen you drink."

He smiled briefly. "Drinking while gambling is a surefire way to guarantee defeat. I have nothing personal against drinking, it just usually gets in the way of my other passions."

She gave a curt nod. "…This must be a particularly hard night for you."

A casual glance in her direction betrayed only the mildest of interest in her words. "What makes you say that?"

Her eyes met his and she shrugged as casually as she could. "My father used to say people who never drink will do so when they are troubled."

He chuckled to himself. "Your father sounds like he was a rather perceptive man," he remarked. "So what about you?"

She cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

He leaned back briefly, supporting himself with his arms against the log. "I don't exactly recall seeing you ever drink before either. You also never followed me out here before. Going off of your father's wisdom, I am inclined to wonder if you are troubled by something as well."

Neither said a word for a moment, allowing the sound of the fire crackling and snapping to permeate the air.

"Bad dream?" she finally asked.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he sat forward. "Something like that. You?"

She nodded and sat back slightly. He didn't press the matter for the time being and allowed the silence to grow. There was something…comforting about the silences he allowed between Marisa and himself. Neither ever felt the need to fill the silence with some sort of mindless chatter. Thus, they continued to sit there for a moment as the moon carried on its slow path across the night sky.

"I bet mine was worse than yours," he finally said as he flashed her a playful grin.

She turned to meet his gaze and shook her head. "I doubt that."

With a dramatic show of his hands, he gestured as though to say, "After you then."

Marisa sat up straighter and took a slow, deep breath. "I…see a mountain before me. There's a path that runs along the side. It leads to the top. I begin to climb only to eventually slip upon a patch of ice." She stopped for a moment and brought her hands together. "I try to get back up and climb, but every time I get closer I slip once again."

She stopped for a minute, as though contemplating whether to say more or not. In that moment of silence, Joshua realized just how much more Marisa had opened up to him. It wasn't just now; ever since the "sociable" incident, she had become a somewhat better conversationalist, even starting a couple of conversations. Her voice quickly pulled him out of his inner thoughts.

"When I finally look back up, I see…that I haven't actually moved at all. I'm stuck in the same place." She bit her lip for a moment. "At the top, I can see my- a man in a gray coat. He is watching me the entire time, never laughing or smiling. All he shows is…disappointment. I get up and try to run once again only to slip and then…"

"You wake up," finished Joshua for her. She simply nodded. "The man in the gray coat…is he your father?"

She looked back at the fire and closed her eyes momentarily. "Yes."

"He must have been a great man."

She nodded once again. "He was one of the greatest swordsman in all of Jehanna. It was, and still is, my goal to one day surpass him."

"Are you afraid you won't be able to accomplish that?" he asked.

"There are times…where no matter how many opponents I defeat, how many enemies I slay, that I look back and still see that I am at the bottom of the mountain," she said slowly and softly.

Joshua gave her a sympathetic nod. "And you begin to worry that no matter what you do, it will never be enough to live up to his expectations. You feel like no matter how hard you try, no matter how much effort you put in, that you just can't get there."

She gave a slow nod and resumed her staring contest with the fire. After a few moments she turned and gave him a look that said, "your turn."

He let out a sigh, noticing just how heavy the cloth-covered item suddenly felt on his lap. "I suppose it all started when Innes confronted me the other day during that little skirmish we had against the monsters. The battle had proven to be tougher than anticipated and he along with Ephraim and the others felt the best course of action to turn the tide was to use the Sacred Twins. For some reason though…I couldn't bring myself to draw Audhulma."

He glanced over and saw her full attention was focused upon him. He gave her a half smile before he continued.

"That night…I had a dream, almost a memory really, of when I saw my mother dying in front of me upon the floor of Jehanna Hall. I hear her words as she said them that day and watch as she slowly slips once again into death's clutches. I then see Caellach, and he just stands over her body, laughing at me, taunting me for the weak fool I am."

He could feel his hand starting to shake. Mentally, he tried to restrain it and keep it under control. "I was, am, so foolish. I thought that I needed to leave and experience the world beyond the castle walls in order to be a good prince. At least, that was the justification I kept repeating to myself. When I think look back though, I can only see the selfish actions of a boy rebelling against his mother. Had I stayed…" he trailed off, his grip tightening upon the cloth. "Had I stayed, I could have stopped Carlyle, I could have stopped Caellach and I could have saved my mother."

He let out another sigh. "My mother gave me Audhulma in her final moments, telling me that it was the blade meant to be wielded by the next ruler of Jehanna." He grit his teeth in frustration. "How can I be the one to rule? How can I be the king that protects and watches over his people when I selfishly abandoned them? How can I be fit to wield _this_ blade?" He undid the cloth and pulled it away to reveal the pale metallic blue sheath that housed the Sacred Twin, Audhulma, Sword of Everlasting Ice.

Marisa's eyes lingered for a moment upon the legendary sword before she looked back into his gaze. "You don't know that."

He looked at her for a moment, a confused look on his face. "What?"

"You don't know how things would have been," she said slowly. "You…may have been able to protect your mother or you may have been just another victim in that battle. It doesn't change the fact though, that right now you are alive. The die has been cast."

He couldn't hold back a small grin at her little reference to his hobby. "During my journeys, I learned many things. I learned about the hearts of other people and what had to be done to guide the country. I just wish it hadn't come at such a great cost."

She nodded. "I doubt your mother would want you to sit around feeling sorry and doubting yourself." He looked up at her, his gaze never leaving hers. "I know my father wouldn't want that from me," she offered.

He leaned back for a moment and held the Sacred Twin before him, his eyes tracing his reflection along the scabbard of the weapon.

"I made a promise," he said slowly. "I will carry on mother's will and protect Jehanna and one day…one day I will create the world she envisioned for Jehanna."

Without another word, he stood up and placed his hand upon the hilt of Audhulma. He could feel the cool aura of the blade through the palm of his hand. In a showy flourish he drew the blade, its metallic ring echoing over the hills and trees for miles it seemed. The orange and yellow flames danced across the cerulean surface, giving the blade the appearance of actually being on fire. After staring at the weapon momentarily, he returned the sword to its scabbard.

"Shall we head back?" he offered, holding out his hand.

Wordlessly, Marisa nodded before taking his hand and letting him pull her up. He gave her a sincere smile before letting go of her hand. It may have been the fire just playing tricks with his eyes, but he was sure he saw her return the gesture with a small smile of her own. The two headed back slowly to the campsite until they eventually reached the point where their paths split.

"Well, good night, Marisa," he said. "Thanks, by the way."

She nodded. He watched as she turned to head back to her tent only to stop partway and look back at him. A faint smile ran across her face.

"I just remembered," she started. "In my dream…you were there too."

Before he could give her a response, she turned around and slipped back under the folds of her tent. _Did Marisa just admit that she was dreaming about me?_ thought Joshua as a sly smile emerged upon his face. He turned around and shook his head. _She admitted to a dream in which I was _present. _Completely different._

Her statement seemed to spur his brain into action though, and he couldn't help but wonder what he was doing in her dream. She never said she pulled herself up on her own, so perhaps…

His thoughts were suddenly rudely interrupted by what sounded like a growling bear. Glancing back, he was sure that it was coming from the tent next to Marisa's. He didn't even bother to try and hold back the smile that spread across his face. Turning around, he carefully navigated around the ropes and pegs only to trip on one right outside the entrance to his tent.

_I suppose,_ he thought as he let out a small sigh, _that sometimes we have to fall in order to get back up._

* * *

Author's Notes: This one was a little bit of a prompt I made for myself in which I wanted to investigate Joshua and Marisa's pasts. Arak is a Middle-Eastern drink known as "The Lion's Milk" and has a distinct licorice taste due to the star anise used in brewing it. For those of you curious, the end quote is one of the famous lines from _Batman Begins_.


	7. Taste of Memories

Chapter 6: Taste of Memories

She held the knife delicately between her fingers, firm enough so that it wouldn't slip yet light enough so that it didn't give her hand any unnecessary stress. Her left hand gripped the freshly plucked bird firmly. In a flash, the knife came down in a series of slashes, leaving behind several shallow cuts along the length of the chicken.

She had been so preoccupied that she had failed to notice a certain red-haired swordsman watching her with an amused look on his face the entire time. It wasn't until she heard the slight shuffle of grass and the shadow that fell over the nearby table that she noticed him.

He came over and stood next to her side, leaning with his free arm against the table with a curious look on his face. "What are you doing?"

She ignored him for a moment as she retrieved a bizarrely shaped tan root. "Cooking," she replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

Joshua blinked for a moment as he took in the full of his surroundings. She had her hair tied back in a ponytail so that not a single strand got in the way. Behind him, the table was covered in a variety of ingredients, some he remembered seeing in the kitchens of Jehanna Hall as a boy.

Much to her surprise, he chuckled lightly before turning back to her. "Okay, fair enough," he conceded with a smile. "In that case, allow me to rephrase my question. _Why_ are you cooking?"

She gently ran the small knife along the tan root, peeling back the woody skin that covered it to reveal a bright yellow flesh underneath. It released a sweet smell into the air. "Should I not be?" she replied.

That got a small laugh out of the red-haired prince. "Now you're just being difficult."

She made no response and began to thinly slice the yellow root. Once she had a small pile of the slices, she pressed the back of the knife to them and began to pound the root until it resembled a small mound of yellow pulp. She shoved it off to the side and extracted a set of small coriander seeds and began to break those with the back of the knife as well.

"So what is all of this?" Joshua asked as he gestured to the table of ingredients behind him.

After finishing breaking up the seeds and placing it aside with yellow root and chicken, she turned around. "Basic ingredients. Chicken, ginger, coriander," she gestured to the prepared ingredients behind her, "some peppers, cloves, lemon, and yogurt," she finished as she pointed to the brown cloth.

She could see the look of surprise in his eyes and immediately knew why it was so confusing to him. He had never seen her cook; the only one who ever had amongst Gerik's troops was Tethys.

"So what's the occasion?" he asked casually.

She pondered her answer before finally responding, albeit somewhat hesitantly. "…Chief's orders. He…told me it was my turn to cook for everyone."

"I find that a bit hard to swallow," remarked Joshua. "There is no way one chicken is enough to feed all of Gerik's men. Heck, it probably isn't even enough to feed Gerik."

She didn't respond to his question and instead retrieved the lemon. After briefly rolling it she split it in two with her knife and squeezed out the juice into a small wooden bowl. She did the same with the other half, making sure to discard the seeds.

It was obvious he saw through her excuse. She felt a little foolish in hindsight trying to lie, particularly to Joshua. There were times when she forgot just how perceptive the prince of Jehanna could be.

"I didn't know you knew how to cook," he verbalized.

She shrugged. "…It's nothing special, just tandoori chicken. Typical for someone from Jehanna."

"Maybe, but you've never cooked before," he continued, his eyes still reflecting his surprise.

She retrieved a couple of the peppers and began to slice them into thin strips. "You never asked if I could before," she replied.

When she looked back up she saw that he had that playful grin on his face. "I never asked this time either."

It was still fairly early in the morning. She had hoped that by starting early she would avoid bumping into anyone and in turn avoiding the series of questions that were bound to come with it. Joshua was perhaps the worst in this case. She could already see he had a question in mind and he wasn't about to let it go until he got his answer. The way he just kept _happening_ to be standing right where between her and the ingredients certainly didn't do much to help.

"If you had to eat the food coming out of Gerik's camp, you would want to start cooking as well," she stated simply.

She turned back to the pepper and began to dice it into fine little cubes. Just like she had done with the ginger and the coriander, she took the back of the knife and promptly crushed the diced peppers, leaving a small mound of red that she then pushed aside.

She didn't need to look up to know that the wheels in his mind were turning, that he was deciding whether or not to call her on that rather weak excuse or to let things simmer for a bit.

It still didn't change the fact that when she needed to go back for the other peppers he was still in the way. She cocked her head to the side and looked him in the eye. "Are you just going to stand in the way or do you intend to help me?"

Joshua blinked as though being shaken out of a stupor. "Huh?" What she hadn't realized was that he was simply so surprised by how comfortable she was around a kitchen that he had fallen into something akin to a trance.

She pointed to the small black pepper kernels behind him. "Could you crush those up into powder for me?" He opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off. "If you are going to eat any of this, you may as well help." She saw both his eyebrows go up slightly before he gave her a quick grin.

He scooped up the small black pellets and brought them over to the table where the other ingredients had been prepared. After a moment he reached for the side of his belt and extracted the knife he kept there and crushed the kernels just as he had seen her do earlier. Much to his surprise, one flew away and rebounded before hitting him square in the forehead.

It was rather difficult to hold back the mirth she felt upon seeing his little display. She bit her lip lightly before she began to finely slice several small brown orbs. They released a pleasant aroma as she continued to work. After a few seconds, and several other black peppercorns escaping Joshua's knife, the two managed to finish their respective tasks.

She retrieved a larger wooden bowl and the brown cloth containing the yogurt. She could feel his eyes watching her as she gently scrapped the yogurt into the bowl before tossing the rest of the spices into the mix. After that she added the lemon juice from earlier and began to give it a stir until the white mixture took on a fiery orange color. Finally she added the chicken and began to turn it in the mixture until the entire bird had the same vivid color.

Satisfied, she left the bowl atop the counter and undid the bands holding her hair back, allowing it to fall back into its usual position. She then took a seat outside the overhang on a nearby boulder. Joshua went out and joined her.

"Is there a reason we're letting that sit?" he asked as he gave the bowl another glance.

"It needs time to marinate so the flavors can penetrate the meat," she answered simply. He nodded to show he understood. Neither said anything for the moment, the only sound filling the air came from the few songbirds flying around.

"So, what brought on this sudden culinary urge?" he asked casually as one might the weather.

She looked at him for a moment. When it was clear he wasn't going to simply let the matter drop she mentally sighed. "Didn't I answer this earlier?"

"As I recall, you had dodged the question," he countered.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Is it that hard to believe I may occasionally _want_ to cook for myself?"

He flashed her a grin and copied her shrug. "Perhaps I just know you better than you give me credit for."

For some reason when she heard Joshua say that she felt something inside her _move_. It wasn't the first time she had experienced this either. There were several different times where it had happened in her conversations with him. It was almost like something buried deep within her stomach, some weight, just suddenly shifted. The feeling wasn't anger or embarrassment. It certainly wasn't painful; it was odd and almost hot at times but more than anything it felt powerful. For a reason she couldn't quite explain, she knew that if it ever awoke it would be trouble for her.

What was most irritating about this thing was that she didn't know how to control it. Emotions were easy enough for her to control; she had practiced from a young age how to keep her face calm and unreadable. It was a trait her father had passed onto her and had helped her immensely as a swordsman. This thing though, she could not seem to control or hide. The only thing she could do was focus on steadying her breathing and divert her attention upon something other than Joshua or what he was saying.

Of course, Joshua wasn't the type to simply let her go off for a moment without asking about it. The only thing she could do was try to change the subject and hope it was enough to calm the feeling.

"…Do you not think I can enjoy cooking as much as anyone else?" she asked, attempting to sound as casual as she could.

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled, his gaze focused upon something in front of him. Whenever he did that it meant he knew something he wasn't telling her.

"I'm not saying that at all," he said as he turned back to face her. "What I am saying though, is that you aren't exactly a cook like Syrene or any of the royal chefs."

She nodded slowly, her gaze still focused upon him. After a moment she finally broke the silence.

"Then…what are you trying to get at?"

He closed his eyes briefly and grinned, almost as though he were proud of something. "All I'm saying is that if you really wanted to cook that badly, even if you enjoy it, you aren't the type to do it when someone would likely pass by and notice."

She felt her eyes widen ever so slightly. He must have noticed it because his grin seemed to widen accordingly.

He _had _noticed.

He rested his hands behind his head. "So, what I'm trying to say is this. Considering that you _are_ cooking when someone might see you, the only logical explanation is that either there is some unofficial cooking holiday from Jehanna I have forgotten or," he turned back to her with one eye open, "you are upset about something enough for you to _need_ to cook in order to relieve that stress and you don't care if someone sees you or not."

Her eyes widened even further at his statement. There was that feeling again in her stomach. It was moving around again, testing the walls she had attempted to place around it even though she knew they couldn't actually contain it. She turned away and tried to regain her composure before facing him again.

"Well, there still aren't really other people around," she said softly.

He gave her a look of mock hurt. "What am I, chopped liver?"

"No. You're…different."

She saw him raise an eyebrow. "I'm different? How am I different from other people?"

"You're…" She found herself struggling to come up with the right word. Honestly, she wasn't sure what to answer and felt like she was only digging herself into a deeper hole. Joshua however, was not about to let her go without an answer; she could see it in his eyes. "You aren't…like other people."

His other eyebrow joined the first before he chuckled lightly. "I'm not? If I'm not like the others, then what am I exactly?"

How had the conversation managed to turn around on her so fast? She was trying to divert from this feeling, not sink herself further into it. "You're…" 'Special.' She mentally stopped herself before giving that thought voice. "You're Joshua."

He nodded. "I am in agreement with you on that one, but that still doesn't explain what you mean."

"You're…different."

She tried to avoid his gaze. "You already said that," he pointed out.

She nodded curtly as she tried to find something to distract herself or give inspiration to a new topic. "I know."

"So what does that mean exactly?" His playful grin had been replaced by a calm smile though she could still see a glimmer of amusement in his crimson eyes.

"It means you aren't like everyone else," she said, knowing it was vague as could be. "You're Joshua and that makes you different from the others."

"Different than Gerik?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Different than Ewan?"

"Yes."

"Different than-"

She finally just cut him off. "Yes!" she shouted. From the look on his face he was equally surprised by her sudden outburst as she was. "Yes," she repeated, much calmer this time. "You're not like anyone else."

Maybe he would drop it there. Maybe he would finally let the matter go. It was Joshua though. Of course he wasn't going to.

"So," he started, "what you're saying is that you can say and do things around me you can't do around the others?"

She let out a small sigh. "Yes."

Wait for it…by this point she knew the question was coming. "What?"

That was the question, wasn't it? She honestly had no idea what it was about him. She had her suspicions but she never actually pursued them in order to ascertain answers. All she knew was she felt different when around Joshua and saw him differently than the others. What the conclusion to that was though, she had no idea.

"I don't know," she stated simply.

He raised an eyebrow once again. "You don't know?"

"No," she replied. "I don't know why I am comfortable doing things like this around you and not the others. I…I don't know why I don't mind that you know things about me I haven't told anyone else…" She looked back into his eyes, her stoic expression back in full force. "You're different from the others but I don't know why."

She saw he was about to open his mouth to ask another question when she narrowed her eyes and gave him a look that said, "drop it." His mouth closed and he gave her a small grin before turning his attention to the sunrise just on the other side of the tent. The two sat there in silence, neither saying another word as a gentle breeze blew through and ruffled the flaps of the nearby tents.

Despite the silence, Marisa was having trouble repressing the urge to talk. While she wasn't usually the talkative type, she was having trouble keeping the words she wanted to say form spilling from her lips. It was almost as though she _wanted_ Joshua to ask her why she had suddenly decided to cook today, but he had dropped the subject. It was frustrating beyond compare.

She tried to think of an excuse to bring up the topic but couldn't seem to come up with any feasible way. Was it that she didn't trust him? No, that wasn't it. She didn't trust him like she did Gerik or the others she realized. If anything, she actually trusted him more than perhaps anyone else in her life, even her father possibly.

Was she afraid to bring up the topic? No, she wasn't afraid like one would be of monster or a life-or-death type of situation. It was a powerful feeling, almost like an urge even. She knew that she wanted to share the reason, the memory, yet she could not think of a plausible way to do so. It wasn't like she could just say, "By the way…"

Once again, Marisa was frustrated by her inability to express herself. She had never learned how to do small talk simply because it had never been necessary. Her swordplay spoke plenty. There was never any real need to be able to socialize on a conversational level.

No, this was personal. As long as she could remember, personal things didn't matter when it came to dealings with others. In the words of her father, personal things aren't someone else's business. She had always kept her thoughts and opinions to herself. If something didn't agree with her, she simply up and left and gone elsewhere. She had her fair share of encounters with people who had tried to get her to open up, to be sympathetic, yet she had ignored them. Just as it wasn't her business to know their personal thoughts, it wasn't theirs to know hers.

People don't want to partake in your grief. They want to be a part of your joys, your triumphs. Even amongst those who would call them your friends, no one wants to muddle through your problems and frustrations, at least deep down they don't.

That was what she had always thought.

Now though…

Now she had begun to think that perhaps Joshua really _did_ want to know. He had done what any of her other friends such as Gerik or Tethys would have done when he sensed something was different and he tried to get her to talk about it. Even though she had refused, he hadn't left her to her devices and gone about his day; he had stayed. He had tried to joke around with her and even help her (albeit in his own way) without really knowing what was bothering her or why she was doing this in the first place.

He never tried to intrude into the sanctity of her heart. He gave her a playful nudge or two and teased her but he never pushed her beyond where she felt comfortable. He was there, close enough to talk to if she ever needed to. Maybe that was why she was sure, without a doubt, he would listen to her and not because of some misplaced sense of guilt or honor, but simply because he wanted to help her. It was a strange and foreign feeling.

Never before had she wished that she could open up, or at least start a conversation. Now though, she found herself wishing she could. For the first time in years, she felt like someone who actually _wanted_ to listen to her was there.

She opened her mouth and took a deep breath. His gaze hadn't wavered for a moment from the sunrise.

"Today is the anniversary of my father's death," she said simply. It wasn't tactful or graceful, but at least she said it.

She saw his head turn to look at her out of the corner of her eye. "I see. How old would he have been if he were still around?"

"…Fifty-three." It was surprising, she thought. Usually whenever someone brings up the loss of a loved one, the other always asks something like "How did they die?" Such a phrase seemed meaningless, almost empty.

He nodded. "He would've been about the same age as my father."

She looked up at him. "How old was he?"

He leaned back slightly. "He would have been fifty-five with the passing of last week." He let out a light laugh. "He was a great man and a great swordsman. Who knows, he may have known your father when they were younger."

"Even fought together," she added.

He shrugged. "Perhaps."

She ran her fingers over her left hand. "You must get most of your looks from your father."

He ran a hand through his hair and smiled. "My mother often said I was my the image of my father in his prime, save the red hair I inherited from her." He looked back at her. "Your mother must have been quite the woman as well."

She cocked her head to the side in confusion. "What makes you say that?"

"Your father was known as the Silver Shade because of his bright silver hair as I remember," offered Joshua. "I just don't see much of that in you. The way I see it, your looks had to have come from your mother and I could only guess that she must have been quite the catch."

Her stoic expression cracked once again and this time she felt she couldn't quite piece it back together. "I…don't know about that," she acknowledged. Realization dawned upon her that he had just complimented her on her looks. She turned away as she felt a blush start to creep onto her face. Had he really just complimented her? It was so strange to her that she couldn't be sure but before she had a chance to ask it was lost like grains of sand upon the wind.

Thankfully Joshua decided to change the subject. "It's been almost an hour. Do you think it's perhaps time to start cooking?"

She blinked as she realized just how much time had passed since they sat down. Without a word, she went over to the fire pit and added the wood and tinder before setting it alight with flint. When she turned back she saw Joshua standing behind her holding the wooden bowl containing the chicken in his hands.

"Set it down," she motioned to a flat portion of the ground. "We need to prepare a way to mount the bird over the fire so that it cooks evenly."

He flashed her a grin. "Understood, chief."

Marisa scoured through the pile of wood until she found two sticks about two and a half feet tall. She placed one on each side of the fire pit, burying it about half a foot deep so that it remained firmly in place. Joshua came back with a longer piece of wood, one that was thinner but spanned the entire length of the pit.

"Hold that still," she said. Joshua did as she asked and watched as she picked up the bird and carefully threaded it upon the thinner wood until it rested in the center. With a gentle heave, he then proceeded to place it atop the two shorter and stouter pieces of wood, suspending the chicken perfectly over the fire. The two went back and took their spots atop the boulder, just an arm's reach away from the stick.

Marisa gave it a slight twist, testing how easily it turned, before she let out a satisfied breath.

"So how long do we have until this is ready?" asked Joshua casually.

"It'll take at least an hour, perhaps a bit longer considering its size," she answered nonchalantly.

"Dang. All that waiting earlier and we still have to wait more? I'm willing to bet I'm going to waste away at this rate," he joked with a cajoling smile.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Good things come to those who wait."

"Heh, I suppose they do. But still, do you think things would go faster if we asked Ewan to try and cook it?"

She shook her head. "Not if you want food instead of charcoal."

"It was just a thought. You could always ask Saleh to use his Elfire spell, just an idea."

She tended to the meat, turning it slowly. When she sat back, she shook her head like she really minded his teasing.

Even though she didn't.

* * *

Author's Notes: Tandoori chicken is a traditional Indian dish (and quite tasty I might add). I wanted to make the dish Marisa prepared something practical for an army on the move yet still significant for something like a deceased family member and this seemed to hit the balance I was looking for nicely.


	8. To Know

Chapter 7: To Know

Joshua was never the type to talk at end about himself like Tana. Nor was he the type to keep all the little personal details of his life locked up tighter than Innes. Rather, he was content to simply let things come about as a natural course of life. And even though he never shared much of his personal history with the others, any one who hung around the prince long enough would figure out a thing or two about the man.

Everyone knew he was a gambler at heart. Any one who even took a moment chat with him or exchange a simple greeting would almost assuredly be dragged into a wager of some form or another. No one had to ask where he was late at night; all they had to do was head on down to the local pub to find the man testing his luck once again.

It was the same with food. No one ever needed to ask if he wanted one or two servings when it came to any meat dish. They just knew that he would always ask for two. Just like they knew that the man secretly had a sweet tooth, particularly for Syrene's homemade sweet rolls, and wouldn't hesitate to take one with a smile while pocketing another under the table.

Those were givens. _Everyone_ knew them.

Few people though, knew other the smaller things about him. If one watched him on those nights, it quickly became apparent that he always preferred games with dice to those revolving around cards. Only those who really knew him well though, knew that if the money was on the table and things were going poorly that he would always opt for a game of blackjack.

If he were asked which weapon he preferred to use in combat, he would always grin and jokingly reply, "Whichever one feels lucky today." Generally that meant that he relied upon the curved killing edge he always kept at his waist, occasionally choosing instead a polished and sharpened silver sword. Anyone who fought alongside him though, noted that he always kept a sturdy armorslayer close at hand just in case he came across some particularly thick-skinned enemy.

Whenever he went out to gamble, it generally meant he would be returning late that night. And just as they had grown accustomed to this, they had also grown accustomed to leaving the fire pit burning just a bit longer for him so he could boil his water when he returned. Joshua had professed on several different occasions his disinterest in alcohol, often deciding instead to go for a warm glass of tea, or if his winnings allowed, a cup of black coffee.

Tonight had been such a good night that he had managed to leave with twice the amount of gold he had walked in with. The gambler's "high" still rushed through his veins, giving him an alerted sense to everything around him as well as a happy-go-lucky smile. As he searched around his tent, he could not find the kettle he always used to heat his water. After a few minutes of searching, he turned back to the fire and saw Marisa sitting on the log opposite where he usually sat, the kettle already suspended over the orange flames.

He wasn't surprised to find her sitting in her usual spot just as she was not surprised to see him come back smiling. They had met this way several times, at first by pure coincidence. Marisa was a light sleeper and Joshua never seemed to tire even into the wee hours of the night. Even when he did come back and fall asleep early, he often struggled to sleep through the entirety of the night. Thus, it came as no surprise to find the two gathered around the fire pit with a pewter kettle of water dangling between them.

A glint caught his eye, causing him to glance near the base of her feet. His eyes searched momentarily before spotting the pewter tray that carried all the essentials for their nighttime regimen. The wooden oak cups almost gleamed in the firelight, standing in sharp contrast to the small black leather pouch containing some sugar. Beside the sugar rested a small bowl containing a small quantity of pure white cream.

They didn't always talk during these nights. Often they would silently wait for the water to boil, steep the tea, drink and then retire without so much as a simple good night. Other times they managed to have a semi-coherent conversation, or at least as best as one could have in their sleep-muddled state.

He gave her a proud smile before extracting a pouch of tealeaves laced with several sticks of dried cinnamon and nutmeg. The seller had imported it directly from Jehanna, or so he had claimed. From the scent alone though, Joshua had all the reason he needed to buy the pouch from the man. The prince lightly tossed the pouch to her that she adeptly caught. He watched as she carefully opened the bag and equally partitioned the leaved and sticks into the small cloth bags and gently set them in each cup.

As they waited for the water to come to a boil, he turned his gaze skyward towards the heavens. After the rain the previous day all the clouds had vanished, leaving the sky bare and exposed for all to see. The stars twinkled overhead, like diamonds shining vividly amidst a sea of black sand. For years he had snuck up to the ramparts just to observe them. Sometimes he went up there as a way to calm his anger, other times were like now, where he was simply content and wanted to bask in the silence and majesty of the world above him.

A low whistle began to emanate from the kettle until Marisa carefully removed the pot from the stand it was suspended on and poured the boiling liquid into each of the cups, allowing the contents to steep. After a few more minutes of silence, she removed the bags from the hot liquid and reached for the sugar and cream.

He watched as she added one scoop of sugar and one spoonful of cream to hers and then proceeded to add two scoops of sugar and one spoonful of cream to his. He gratefully took the cup when she offered it to him and sat down to take in the aroma when it suddenly hit him.

She _knew_ how he liked his tea.

He had never told her before, not once during their late night ritual, how he preferred his tea. Granted, usually it was because he prepared it himself, but that really made it all the more shocking to him. She had been watching him and she _noticed_. Perhaps what shocked him most was how she went about the task as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

He knew if he ever mentioned this to someone like Gerik the man would simply laugh at Joshua for being paranoid. But this…this was different for him. Or was it simply because it was Marisa that it felt so different?

When he bumped into her several nights ago, he had assumed it was simply that she couldn't take Gerik's snoring any more and the two just _happened_ to cross paths. But what if that wasn't the case? She had mentioned that he had been going out alone for the past five nights. Even then, he realized, she had noticed.

It was strange. That night he had talked about something he never thought would pass his lips, his mother, his dreams, his _past_. Yet he had shared it, all of it and she had simply listened and offered her own story in return. Somehow, even in the midst of his frustration, she had seen the answer that was staring him right in the face and simply pointed it out to him.

Had she really sensed the pain and frustration, the guilt that had plagued him for all those nights? More importantly, had she tried to reach out to him?

"Joshua." Her voice was curt, flat as it was when she usually addressed someone else. He glanced up at her, his cup still resting in his hands untouched. He looked back at her, watching as she closed her eyes to take a small sip from the glass before setting it back in her lap. As her eyelids slowly opened, his crimson eyes locked onto her magenta ones. His breathing seemed to have stopped entirely, as though he worried it were so loud it might obscure her next statement.

"Drink your tea."

He blinked once before he took a deep breath and looked back at the cup in front of him. A few wisps of steam still exuded from the tan liquid, carrying the pleasant scent of cinnamon and nutmeg into the air. He looked back at her once again. He tried to scrutinize her stoic expression for something, anything that supported his sudden revelation. He considered broaching the topic. It was unusual, true, but he couldn't help but wonder if she had also figured out what he had just managed to deduce.

She cocked her head slightly. "It's getting cold."

He nodded, his head almost somewhat numb. Now that his mind had latched onto this idea, it seemed adamant that it would not let go. He looked back at her one last time, as though hoping she could read his mind and give him the answer he was looking for.

It never came though. The flat tone of her voice hid everything like a black veil amidst the night sky.

In the end, all he was left with was a one-sided epiphany and a cold cup of tea.

* * *

Author's Notes: This one is different from the other chapters but I still feel like it does a nice job getting its point across. This chapter frankly came to me as a spur of the moment idea that I just took and ran with.


	9. Laundry Night

Chapter 8: Laundry Night

"Don't you think it's a bit late…"

His sentence was abruptly cut off when something quite cold and damp planted itself perfectly over his mouth as well as the rest of his face.

Joshua was frankly too surprised and caught off-guard to make sense of what had just happened. After a few seconds the offending article slipped slowly down his face before landing with a resounding plop at his feet.

"…to do laundry?" he finished, his eyes still giving her an incredulous look.

As Marisa stepped into the light offered by the nearby fire he could see that she was doing her best to fight a losing battle to contain her mirth. Joshua glanced down and saw the thing that had hit him in the face was one of her black and red sleeveless tunics.

He looked at the piece of clothing then back to Marisa, a quizzical expression upon his face. "You hit me with your shirt?"

Marisa's face was no longer able to hold back the small smile that came to her face, causing her to raise a hand to cover her mouth. After a moment, she walked over and picked up the tunic and set it over in a small pile with a few other articles of clothing.

"It's your fault for sneaking up on me," she said.

"But you threw a _shirt_ at me?" he replied with a raised eyebrow.

"…It was an instinctual reaction," she said. "Besides, I don't have my shamshir or a knife on me; I just used whatever was on hand."

"Thankfully," muttered Joshua under his breath. He glanced back over at her. "I suppose that brings me back to my earlier question." He brought his hand to his face and wiped away some of the moisture but noticed a faint scent of something akin to flowers and cinnamon. "Why are you doing laundry when it's well past midnight?"

She shrugged. "I couldn't sleep and I needed to take care of my laundry. I didn't see any issue doing it now. Why are _you_ up so late?" she asked as she retrieved the damp tunic and proceeded to clean it once again.

He put his right hand to the back of his head and let out a light laugh. "I couldn't sleep either."

She cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. Clearly she didn't completely buy his story. He knew it was futile to try and worm his way out of this one; he was too tired to lie and even if he did he had little doubt Marisa would see right through it. He grabbed a nearby chair and took a seat.

"So I wasn't having trouble getting to sleep. I wasn't even trying really," he added in a softer voice.

He glanced up and saw her shake out another piece of clothing before hanging it on the line with the others. "Why weren't you trying?"

He let out a sigh. "I was obsessing over that battle that happened back at Rausten Castle."

"You? Obsessing?" she offered with what Joshua could only believe was a scintilla of sarcasm.

He gave her a half-smile but didn't answer, even though he could tell she was trying to tease him. "No one died or was seriously wounded in the battle," she said as she grabbed another tunic. "…It was another battle against Grado like before and we won." It still didn't seem to help. "It's…not like when…we had to fight in Jehanna."

"I know," he sighed. "I know all that." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Then…what's the problem?"

"I don't know. The last time we were ambushed like that, several members of the army nearly _were_ killed. I guess I'm just a bit edgy."

She nodded slowly, as though pondering what he said. "Perhaps. Being a little paranoid is a good thing; it keeps you focused."

He smiled sheepishly. "But being very paranoid…"

"Means you don't get any sleep," she finished. "And if you keep losing sleep then you _will_ be a liability on the battlefield, both for yourself and your friends."

He sat upright and gave her a look before laughing lightly. "You're one to talk. I'm not the one doing laundry in the dead of night."

She glanced at the tunic, now satisfied that it was clean, and glanced back to Joshua before simply shrugging and hanging the article of clothing on the line. As he glanced across the various drying articles, he realized just how little she had in the way of clothes. A spare tunic and set of gloves along with a bed sheet were about all that hung from the line.

"You know, I'm surprised you don't have more variety in your wardrobe," mulled Joshua.

"Why should I?" she asked as though it were completely obvious. "I wear what is practical and make sure I have enough to survive. Why should I want more clothes if they aren't of any benefit?"

That response elicited another laugh from him. "I suppose I can't argue with that logic, now can I?"

"…What about you?" she asked.

"What _about_ me?"

She casually shrugged. "You always wear the same black coat and black pants. Isn't your reason similar to mine?"

"You aren't too far off." He grinned. "In my case, this is one of my only sets of clothes."

She raised an eyebrow at that statement. "And here I thought you just had a strong natural scent."

"Oh come on, it's not like I don't wash these often. You probably wouldn't notice since I do my laundry during the day," he added playfully.

She seemed to ponder what he said for a moment before picking up her other set of wet gloves. "Perhaps. I think you'd find nighttime is better though."

Even though it was late and his mind was still muddled from exhaustion, he decided to ask anyway. "Oh, and why is that?" She cocked her head slightly as though she didn't understand him. "Why is it so much better to do laundry during the night than the day?"

"Well…there are fewer people," she offered.

"If by fewer you mean none. Even you have to admit that seems like a weak excuse," he said. "I mean, what other two idiots can you find in this camp that are up in the middle of lord knows when doing something like laundry?"

"My excuse is valid," she responded curtly.

"It's not like everyone is doing laundry all the time during the day."

She shrugged. "I'd still rather not have to go searching through Tethys's and anyone else's laundry just to do my own."

"I still argue that's a weak excuse," he followed up bluntly.

"At least I have one."

He laughed at that. "Fair enough."

He glanced back towards the pile and saw that she was just about finished. She had a system that was quite organized he realized; all her tunic and sheet lined the top row while smaller articles such as gloves lined the lower lines.

"So why couldn't you sleep?" he asked as he leaned back in the chair.

"…It just seemed like a good idea," she answered. She resumed her folding, clearly not intending to say anything more on the matter, causing him to let out a short sigh.

"Are you really not going to say anymore?"

"Not if you aren't," she replied simply.

He gave her a playful smile. "I thought I already had. Something about me being paranoid and edgy, remember?"

She stopped for a moment before turning around to face him. "_Why_ are you so edgy and paranoid?" she asked. "You said it was the ambush, but…that's a natural part of the business being a mercenary. It wouldn't make sense for just a single ambush to unnerve you so much." She looked at him for a moment, her stoic expression refusing to budge an inch. "Why is it _now_ that it is starting to bother you?"

He leaned forward and rested his chin upon his hands. "I don't know. I guess it's a number of things. If I had to sum it up though, I would say that the stakes feel higher." He stopped momentarily, a bit in shock. When had it become so easy to talk to Marisa about matters such as this? He had never been able to share his fears and inner secrets so easily before yet now he didn't even give it a second thought.

He caught her brief nod. "I think I know what you're saying. We're lucky we haven't lost anyone thus far. You can't help but wonder when your luck's going to run out."

"Exactly," he said. "I just feel like at some point our luck has to run out and when that happens…" He found himself trailing off, unable to finish that statement. She cocked her head to the side, encouraging him to continue. "I can't help but feel with all the close calls we've had that one day it has to turn against us," he sighed. "Just like it nearly did with you in that last battle," he added in a whisper under his breath.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught her nod of agreement.

"How do you deal with it?" he asked.

"…What?" she asked.

"How do you deal with those negative and worrying feelings of doubt?"

She shrugged and hung the last piece of her clothing. "I do laundry at the late hours of the night."

He couldn't suppress the chuckle that came to his lips. "Yeah, sure." He watched as she set the final article upon the line before taking a step back to examine her work.

"There…is something else," she said suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Another way to deal with the doubt," she clarified.

"What would that be?"

"I watch you train in the morning," she said casually as she took a seat opposite him. "I realize that even though there is an element of luck in everything, preparation and teamwork are what truly determine success." Her face went into an expression of deep thought for a moment before she spoke again. "I figure that even if _my _luck runs out, it isn't likely that the chief's, or Tethys's, or your luck are going to run out at the same time. When I look at it that way," she said as she locked her eyes with his, "it seems like we can never have something completely turn against us."

As a sincere smile slowly spread across his face, he wondered if this was why he felt he could be so open with her. Marisa never tried to just be sympathetic to his feelings or offer empty words like "It'll get better!" She always said what she honestly thought and felt, and that somehow always managed to help him.

"Marisa…thank you. I think I'll try that." He turned around and stopped after a couple of steps before turning back and flashing her a playful grin.

"It might not be such a bad idea to do some late-night laundry after all."

* * *

Author's Notes: Do enough laundry at college and you start to think that you can write a fic about it...oh wait. In all seriousness, this chapter literally came to me while I was doing my laundry over the weekend.


	10. Duel: Part II

Chapter 9: The Duel – Part 2

"Hoh!"

"Hah!"

"Close that time!"

She spun lightly to the side only to barely meet his blade with her own. Despite the cool air around them and the plentiful shade, she was already drenched in sweat. From the wet strands of hair hanging in front of his face and his audible panting she could only surmise that the feeling was mutual. With a quick shove, she forced him back enough to create an opening in his defense. She didn't waste a minute as she closed in, the shamshir gleaming menacingly as it caught a ray of sunlight through the trees.

She was completely caught off guard though, as he bent over backwards to the point his head was nearly touching the ground, causing her thrust to sail right over him. The momentum of the strike carried her with it. She felt a kick to her stomach send her flying back a few feet. Wordlessly, both stood up and took their stances to resume the duel, her eyes never leaving his for a moment.

She had been a bit surprised this morning when she had bumped into him again at the training grounds. Since their first duel they had run into each other a few more times at the grounds but had often left the other to their business. She would sit wherever was most comfortable and wordlessly polish her sword while Joshua practiced his sword strikes upon the straw dummy tied to the post. They had fought occasionally, but they were nothing more than friendly spars, nothing like their first duel.

Following the last duel they had both agreed they needed to do something like this again sometime soon. Neither had ever specified a day or time. During their morning routines, they never asked if the other was interested or prepared for another duel. The idea that the duel could occur any morning filled her with anticipation. When it didn't happen, it seemed to only make the feeling stronger the next day and the day after that. She remembered Joshua once remarked that things need time to simmer so that one can relish the suspense before the action.

This morning though, as she watched him stroll casually across the training grounds, she had glanced up and felt her breath catch in her throat. His eyes had the same competitive glint she had remembered from their first encounter and she could feel her heart rate increase as she continued to look into his eyes.

There had been no need for words, something that Marisa had always liked about Joshua. The two didn't need to articulate everything in order to understand what the other was thinking. He merely walked over to the western end of the grounds, drew his sword, and motioned for her to join him. Without even a moment's hesitation, she had pocketed the polishing stone and stood opposite him, her shamshir resting loosely in her left hand.

The duel had been underway for at most ten minutes but those ten minutes felt like ten hours. The strain she felt in her body, the rush that seemed to amplify all her senses to the point where she could _feel_ her heartbeat pounding against her ribs and hear the rush of blood in her body. Even though parts of her body cried out in pain from the blows that would inevitably turn to bruises later, her mind was impervious to it. All that mattered at the moment was the crimson-haired man who stood across from her.

She caught a slight twitch of movement and immediately reacted. Her lithe legs swiftly carried her across the sea of grass and in fractions of a second her blade clashed once again with his in a symphony of steel.

_Left_.

She parried his blow, allowing the natural curve of the shamshir to guide his killing edge safely away.

_Right_.

His fist sailed overhead as she barely ducked out of the way in time.

She gracefully spun around and slashed at his torso. She blinked in surprise when she felt his firm grip envelop her left wrist. Acting upon instinct, she ducked away from his incoming strike and used the momentum to spin around his right side. His back was completely open. Without hesitation she moved to claim victory. Before she could react, his right hand had dropped his sword only to be caught by his left hand as he blocked the strike before spinning around to untangle the two.

Both were panting harder than before. Her sword felt heavy in her hand. From the way his sword swayed back and forth, she could only assume that he was feeling the same. Her eyes drifted back to his. They still had the playful glint they had possessed when they started the battle. He gave her a quick grin and stepped back slightly. She couldn't suppress the smile that came to her face; he saw it as well. The next set of attacks would be the last.

Joshua charged her head on, his blade pulled back for a thrust.

_Read his movements, then counter_, thought Marisa calmly. _First, one handed thrust!_ She threw her body to the left, easily avoiding the point of his sword. _Now the follow-up slash_. By leaning back ever so slightly, the blade passed right in front of her, grazing her with the wind it cut in its wake. _And finish with a spinning vertical chop._ She watched as her predictions played out perfectly. Just as his blade came down Marisa spun her shamshir up with all her might, deflecting his blade and knocking him off balance.

_Weapon break!_ The thought rang loud and clear in her head. Not hesitating for a moment, she lunged forward, determined to finish the duel with one strike. As she closed in though, she suddenly saw a glint of red-tinged steel coming at her right side. Somehow he had managed to transfer the killing edge to his left hand behind his back and prepare for a counterattack.

She dodged the tip by shifting to the left only to feel a firm grip upon her shoulder slam her into the ground. She could feel the cold, unmistakable steel of his sword pressed lightly against her throat.

Glancing up, she could see Joshua's eyes mere inches from her own. His gaze never faltered and remained fixed upon her magenta eyes. She could feel his hot breath upon her face, intermingling with her own as well. Neither moved from the spot nor said a word. Finally, Joshua flashed her a big smile before standing up and offering her a hand.

"Whew…looks like I win this time," remarked the prince of Jehanna as he helped her to her feet.

She took a few steps over to a nearby rock and took a seat. He joined her a moment later. "…I made a mistake."

"No," he replied. He extracted his canteen from his jacket and took a large drink before offering it to Marisa. She accepted the water and could immediately feel the cool drink relieve some of her exhaustion.

"No, you're just having a bad day," he said. "I wouldn't call it a decisive victory this time either. I'd still say we're about even."

"Just about?" she asked as she raised an eyebrow.

He grinned and nodded. "Just about."

She closed her eyes momentarily and let out a sigh of relief as she felt a gentle breeze cool her brow. "All that matters is that I didn't win. You won the bet. What do you want me to do?"

She saw him blink in surprise. "You remembered our last bet! That makes me very happy." His cheery expression darkened as it assumed a more serious appearance. It was rare to see Joshua like this. Even when his mother had died, she remembered he had continued fighting with a faint grin across his face. She could probably count on one hand the number of times she had seen him with such a stern expression. Almost no one else had ever seen him like this; there was a part of her that wanted to think that it was proof of how much he trusted her.

"All right…here it goes," he said slowly.

He turned and looked into her eyes. He opened his mouth and let out a small sigh. It was unusual to see him this unsure of something; what could be weighing so heavily upon him that he acted so?

"I," he spoke softly. "I want you to be my partner for a while." Silence followed for a few moments but it felt like an eternity. "How's that sound?"

She blinked in confusion and felt her breath catch slightly. She couldn't explain why, but the question made her happy and nervous at the same time. Her stomach felt like it had a lump of hot lead rolling around, making it hard for her to answer him.

"…Your…partner?" she repeated.

He diverted his gaze to the grass as he ran his hand through his hair. "Ah, yeah. I mean," he said with a light laugh. "It would just be for training and…gambling," he trailed off as though wanting to add something else but if he did she didn't hear it.

She nodded. This morning was proving to be rather strange. Joshua never acted like this. It was almost like he was _nervous_ about all this. Joshua was many things, but nervous was not one of the words she associated with him. She glanced back and noticed that he was avoiding her gaze as well.

"So…nothing would change," she finally managed to say.

"Well, I suppose," he trailed off. He looked back into her eyes and gave her a half-smile. "I mean, look at it this way. If I train with you, I'm going to become a better swordsman. And if we train together, perhaps we can both learn something."

She nodded. "I could ask for nothing better."

His half-smile morphed into a sadder expression. "There's something I want to do when the war is over. It's…something that can't be done in a single day or overnight. You could probably call it the biggest gamble of my life. I'm going to have to hone my skills and I need someone to stand by my side and help me. What do you say, Marisa? Will you lend me a hand?"

She turned her gaze back towards the grass for a moment, her eyes following a drop of dew as it raced down the crevasse in the middle of the green blade. "I'm good for fighting and not much else."

"You think?" She looked back and saw him smiling at her. It wasn't a playful smile; it was warm and even caring. "I doubt that's true. No, I know it's not," he said immediately afterwards. "At least think about it?"

It was true that they were quickly drawing to the end of this journey. In a few days they would confront Prince Lyon and put an end to the war that had plagued Magvel. She had not given any thought to what would come after. The idea of returning to Jehanna was appealing, or was it because she was returning there with Joshua? As the question ran through her mind she averted her gaze to the side ever so slightly.

"…I'll do it."

When she looked back at him, Joshua was smiling ear to ear. "Great! I mean, I know this is a gamble, but…well, you know gambling is my hobby."

She closed her eyes and nodded, resisting the urge to crack a smile. "I know."

"Well, don't let me down." He grinned. "I'll be counting on you."

"I won't," she said, noting the familiar teasing in his voice. "But…try to keep it interesting, all right?"

He let out a short laugh. "All right, I promise. I'll do my best to keep you entertained. I wouldn't worry too much about it though. You know what I always say – life is a gamble. You never know what'll happen." He got up and retrieved his sword and returned the weapon to its sheath. "Besides, how often do you meet someone you can spar with? Not to mention someone who can actually beat you!"

Marisa got up and retrieved her sword as well. "I won't lose next time."

Joshua only smiled in response. "That's the spirit, Marisa."

* * *

Author's Notes: This time I drew from the A rank Joshua and Marisa supports (at this rate it feels like I'm going for an "S" rank). I tweaked it slightly to try and imply a few more romantic undertones but otherwise this chapter was pretty straightforward.


	11. Eye of the Tiger

Chapter 10: The Eye of the Tiger

The winds of change were blowing through Jehanna.

Few would say Gerik was the most observant member of the army. That was not to say he was not aware of the occasional strange quirks or unusual behavior, but compared to someone like Joshua or Marisa, he clearly was _not_ in first place.

As he paused for a moment, he realized he had a difficult time deciding which of the two were the most observant. Joshua was definitely the first name that jumped to his mind. While the prince acted like a foolish gambler, his eyes were sharp as a hawk and his ears keen as a hound. Even in casual conversations, somehow Joshua always managed to be completely aware of everything around him.

Marisa was really no different. If there was a difference, it was simply in how vocal she was with her observations. Whereas Joshua had no issue announcing his findings, Marisa often kept such details to herself. It was only over years of talking with her and getting to know her better that Gerik had come to realize just how observant she truly was.

Long story short, Gerik was not worthy of the title "Most Observant," but he certainly was a close third.

He cast a glance out over the desert dunes of his homeland. Following the war, he and his company had returned and joined Joshua at Jehanna Hall at his request. Reconstruction had been underway, but even after a month there was still much work that needed to be done before the desert nation would be able to move past its defeat at the hands of Grado.

He let out a sigh before turning around towards the Great Hall. At the end he saw Joshua walking casually across with a couple of servants carrying some papers. Right by his side was Marisa.

Despite the months he had spent in the army during the War of the Stones, Gerik was surprised how long it had taken him to notice what had clearly been happening right under his nose. He had wondered what had happened after Marisa came back in a much better mood after their disastrous discussion where he suggested she be more sociable. At the time, he had merely brushed it off with a sigh of relief that somehow the tensions had been broken, but after a couple of days he started to wonder what could have prompted such a dramatic shift in her mood. Thus, he found himself watching her interactions closer, at times involuntarily. And as he watched her talk to Joshua, he began to understand. He began to see the small and subtle things that they probably weren't even aware of.

In hindsight, he realized that he should have put the pieces together quite some time ago.

He had been a bit surprised when Joshua had presented her with that little charm, but he had been even more surprised by her reaction. She had _smiled_. Okay, kind of. But he had never seen her react that way before.

He was familiar with the custom of charms but he never imagined it would turn into the debacle it had. As he stopped to think about it, he couldn't begin to fathom how many of those little trinkets she had received. At the time, Gerik had not seen anything unusual or wrong about the idea. True, Joshua had given her the first charm but he had never given her another one. Gerik had always assumed it was more to do with Joshua having better things to do than go on a little side-trip for a simple trinket. Joshua had never even said anything about it, at least not until Innes got her one.

When he had bumped into Joshua that night, he certainly was surprised to see how frustrated the man was and even more so when he learned the cause of it. At first it was almost laughable for Joshua to be so irritated over such a small thing. Gerik had always watched over Marisa almost like a younger sister; for Joshua to suddenly be so upset was just strange, particularly when Gerik didn't find anything strange or offensive in Innes's actions.

He probably should have noticed it then. They had talked for an hour before Joshua left. The two never discussed the matter again and so understandably, the matter never crossed Gerik's mind again.

He was surprised he had let all the details slip by for so long.

Even as far back as the snowball fight he should have started to see some of the signs. He could ask Marisa to join in all he wanted but she would never do so; he knew better. Or at least, he thought he knew better. When he looked back on it now, it seemed so obvious, almost an indisputable fact. Just as the sun would always rise, somehow it was clear that only Joshua could have managed to pull her into the fight.

The funny thing was he realized that Joshua really was the only person that could convince her to do things no one would ever think she'd do. It was just something he took for granted, like his training routine, or Joshua's gambling habits, or that he would always be enchanted by Tethys's dancing.

It hadn't really been until a couple of weeks afterwards that he had noticed the way the two were acting while cooking the chicken. His initial response was to label their behavior as strange, but he realized that really wasn't accurate. No, he was actually taken aback by how naturalthe two behaved around each other. Of course, when he first witnessed this he had been a little shocked by the camaraderie and just general non-strangeness of the whole scene. As the thought continued to nag at him through the day though, he slowly started to realize how right the two had seemed together.

How _right _the two worked together, both on and off the battlefield.

It was a silly thing to be sure, and it wasn't something typical for Gerik to notice, but he had noticed it and now he couldn't just un-notice it. So he accepted it and wondered.

And as he did so, ideas started to creep into his head…ideas that were probably none of his business.

If Joshua and Marisa had come to some sort of mutual agreement with how and whom they wanted to spend their time, then that really wasn't any of his concern, was it?

None of these little _things_ seemed to affect either from doing their jobs. No one else seemed or care although with someone like Ewan that was likely just because he was too young to understand. He had never asked Tethys about it but he had to wonder if she had noticed or even gave Marisa a nudge or two.

There had been a few times when he'd wake up in the middle of the night and hear the sound of a crackling fire outside. He would take a peek out his tent flap and see the two swordsmen sitting around the fire, silently drinking their tea, often not saying a word to each other. They seemed to find comfort in the silence of each other's company.

Even after he heard the two return late one night and Marisa mentioning that Joshua was in her dream, he firmly believed that what happened between the two was really none of his business.

As he watched them though, it became apparent that there was still a wall, a gap that separated the two. The devil was in the details, the way they always came so close to each other yet never seemed to be willing to step across that last bridge. It was the way they looked at each other, sometimes completely oblivious to anyone around them, before breaking eye contact and going back about their business.

It was then that Gerik began to wonder if Marisa was as observant as he gave her credit for.

There were times when he watched the two that he just wanted to grab one of them and sit them down for a quick lecture. Every time though, his belief that it wasn't his business overrode that urge. There was a part of him that thought, even hoped, that one of them would come and talk to him about it. Heck, he would be fine with accidentally coming across the two before they jumped apart with a blush.

Gerik couldn't help but wonder what Joshua was thinking. How could Marisa not seem to see what he felt was so obviously staring him in the face? He was growing continually frustrated as he witnessed the events unfold around him. They acted so close around each other yet were distant where it really counted. He saw them standing right over the brink of something great only to walk away because they couldn't see just how close they were. It was driving him up the wall; he wanted to give them a push, any sort of encouragement but he always restrained himself since he didn't feel it was his place to meddle.

He had just about given up any hope for the two when he saw them in the training grounds one morning. From the exhausted expressions, he could only surmise they had just had a rather taxing duel. He saw the two sitting right _next_ to each other, barely a breath away.

He had snuck a little closer, hoping to hear what they had to say. He had watched the expressions and caught bits and pieces of it. He was overjoyed when he heard Joshua ask her to be his partner and then equally frustrated when the prince covered it up with talk of swordsmanship and gambling. Did Marisa perhaps catch the tinge of nervousness Gerik could sense in Joshua? From the way she reacted, he guessed that might be the case. He hoped she finally realized it but as they walked away, he noted nothing had really changed.

Well, following the return to Jehanna, Marisa had beomce a bit more open, but that was to others in general. She was still curt and often remained silent rather than talkative, but she wasn't nearly as awkward as when he first met her. More than likely, it was simply the result of Joshua rubbing off on her.

Gerik kept hoping that the two had come to some sort of conclusion, yet all evidence pointed to the contrary. Marisa certainly seemed to be reaching some conclusions, but she hadn't figured everything out, not by a long shot. Joshua on the other hand, seemed to have come to right conclusions. Gerik had noticed the way he stood closer to her, the way he always smiled when he saw her. Gerik could only assume that Joshua simply had no idea how to proceed with someone like Marisa.

It appeared that if he wanted to help set things straight with these two, a bit of meddling was indeed necessary.

Well, he didn't view it as meddling, more as…facilitating. He was merely going to provide the two with a prime opportunity.

There was nothing wrong with being a facilitator, right?

No. Of course not.

* * *

Author's Notes: A change of perspective seemed to be in order and I felt Gerik hadn't quite had his time in the spotlight. I feel strongly that Gerik is "bro" material and I could definitely see him going through a process like this.

(Yes, the title is named after the song. You may all groan now.)


	12. Fear

Chapter 11: Fear

Marisa stood wordlessly in place, her eyes never once leaving the deceptive friend before her. Apprehension was apparent from the slight crease in her brow and her rigid, straight-backed position. Her eyes, as they set firmly upon the smooth and polished surface, were no different than before, but there was a touch of dread reflected deep within their magenta depths. It was not a look of surprise or disbelief. It was the type of look one had when they had come across something so fundamentally contradictory to their being that its very existence defied the idea of everything they held to be true in nature.

Put simply, Marisa continued to scrutinize the seemingly harmless thing before her and seriously wondered why such a thing was allowed to exist at all in the first place.

Her immediate thought jumped to fear, but she immediately slammed that idea down. There was no way she was afraid of this. While she was willing to admit that fear was a necessary part of life, this was in no way something to fear. To do so was just…ridiculous.

Thus, she continued to insist that what she felt was not fear.

She could go through however many synonyms she wanted but it still wouldn't help her get any closer to overcoming whatever this feeling was. As she looked back over its glossy surface, she could still hear the various sounds and shouts that had been there earlier that day.

Much to her chagrin, Marisa let out a sigh. There were not many things in the world she hated, despite what others may think. While Colm often thought his constant stream of questions was annoying, Marisa was never bothered by it. Tana was really no different. Even though Marisa had told her once that she didn't mind Tana's constant propensity to talk, Tana still always would blush awkwardly if she felt like she had started to talk for too long. Marisa didn't hate using other swords; she just preferred her shamshir. She didn't hate interacting with others; it was just something that still proved difficult for her.

What she did hate though, were weaknesses. Weakness only got in the way of tackling some particular obstacle. She did not tolerate weakness in her swordplay and in turn she did not tolerate weakness in the rest of her being. Perhaps that was why she stood here now. She confronted the behemoth before her in a standoff, the moonlight continuing to dance upon its gleaming surface.

It was rather late at night, at a time when almost assuredly all of the occupants were asleep, including the servants of the castle. She could face this hurdle alone, without any one to witness what would happen. There was no need for questions, questions she knew she was not going to answer.

No, she was going to face this trial and overcome it as she had all her others. She would fight it. She would beat back this fear. She would emerge victorious.

"Marisa?"

Marisa responded as any person in the throes of combating their fear would. She grabbed the hand on her shoulder, snatched up the knife at her waist, and spun around in a crimson blur before pressing the blade to his neck, her eyes locking upon his face…

Joshua's face.

Joshua's clearly confused and equally shocked face.

Joshua, who was likely still too dazed to utter a single word about what had just happened.

Marisa immediately pulled away and returned the knife to the sheath at her side as she felt guilt replace any feeling she had before this. At the moment, she sincerely wished she had chosen to stay in bed rather than come here. She could feel her face flushing with embarrassment.

"S-sorry," she mumbled before turning around to escape this predicament.

She didn't take more than a few steps before she felt Joshua's hand wrap around her wrist. Despite her attempts to escape, his grip did not falter in the slightest. He refused to let go. Though he had never seen her like this before, he knew without a doubt that if he let her go she would bolt.

"Marisa, what's going on?" he asked, his tone soft with concern. "What are you doing?"

Marisa didn't respond and mutely continued to stare at the floor. She really hated weaknesses like this. They always overpowered any sense of logic she may have had and just replaced it with an instinct to run as far and as fast as possible.

"It's nothing," she muttered softly.

"I fail to see how holding me at knifepoint and then trying to run away with panic in your eyes qualifies as 'nothing'," replied Joshua with a slight grin.

She knew Joshua was trying to ease the situation but it did little to help. Right now, all she wanted to do was disappear to some place where people wouldn't see her dealing with this.

"Come on, Marisa. If there's something that's got you this frightened, we need to face it."

Truthfully, there was a part of her that wanted to tell Joshua everything right now. It was the same part of her that had encouraged her to share the details about her father. It was the same part that didn't mind that he had seen her cooking and had even pushed her to tell him why she had done so in the first place.

It was the same part that created that strange feeling that she had no idea what to do with, that feeling she had first noticed when they were cooking but had always been present since.

Then there was the part of her that didn't want anything to do with it. That was the part that had been hammered repeatedly into her by her father, the part that always spoke of how emotions were nothing more than hindrances to becoming a truly great swordsman. It was the same part that had always encouraged her to solve her own problems rather than shoving them off onto others.

The latter side always won out when it came to these sorts of things. It didn't matter whether it was Gerik or Tehtys or Colm. When it came to Joshua though, her history was anything but exemplary.

This time though, perhaps because of her fear, the latter side won out again.

"…I'm fine, Joshua."

"Clearly." The sarcasm in his voice was easy to pick out. "You just happen to love having staring contests with the floor." She remained mute but she stopped trying to break free of his grip. "Did something happen?"

His voice wasn't sarcastic anymore; it was soft and filled with concern. Marisa stood there silently, her gaze occasionally shifting to the side and back.

"…can let go."

"What was that?" asked Joshua.

"…You can let go," she replied softly. She turned around and saw in his eyes that he was hesitant to do so. "I'm not going to run."

He nodded before loosening his grip upon her wrist. She continued to divert her attention away from him, focusing instead upon whatever else she could.

She heard him let out a sigh as he leaned back upon a nearby pillar. "You don't want to talk about it?" He waited a moment for a reply that never came. "I see. What could be so scary though, to frighten even the legendary Crimson Flash?"

He was goading her, trying to stab at her pride in hopes he could get an answer. If there was one thing Marisa had to say about Joshua, it was that he was excellent at reading people. He made a surprisingly adept statesman with how well he could get people to compromise or agree with him. After all the time she had spent around him though, Marisa knew his tricks and wasn't about to let him get to her, not this time. She continued to remain silent.

She heard a brief shuffling of footsteps followed by the distinct click of his leather boots against the polished floor. He walked slowly around the area, a slight lilt in his step, almost as though surveying the area.

"You know Ephraim and Tana's wedding is in a week. I had a hunch something like that would happen but I wish the invite hadn't been sent on such short notice. Apparently," he continued as he slowly turned around, "they want the wedding to be a part of a festival they're holding as a celebration for the reconstruction of Renais."

Marisa numbly nodded. She was well aware of the wedding between Ephraim and Tana and had been there when Joshua received the invitation. She found it odd that Joshua was speaking as though no one else in particular was in the room. Thus, she listened attentively, wondering just what he was trying to get at.

"The royalty and the nobility all have to attend a few select events. There's the mandatory dinner to congratulate the newly weds and then of course there will be the ball following it later that evening." He let out a vocal sigh. "I'm quite glad Tethys was here to show us how they dance in Renais, that 'waltz' or whatever they called it. I feel like I finally get the hang of it, although I was rather surprised that-"

Suddenly the footsteps stopped in place and she could feel Joshua's eyes upon her. She looked up at him and saw a sly smile play across his face as he gave her a knowing look.

"Marisa, do you know how to dance?"

She felt all of the muscles in her body go tense all at once. There were times where she truly cursed Joshua's ability to pick out the truth from the smallest details.

"You don't, do you?" he continued, an amused look on his face. "I wondered why you insisted upon only observing my training session with Tethys and Gerik."

"The Chief…told me I needed to come," Marisa said finally.

Joshua casually strolled over to her side and leaned his side against a nearby pillar. "Is that what you are afraid of? You're afraid of dancing?"

Marisa let out a sigh of defeat. At this point Joshua was going to keep asking questions until she finally admitted the truth even though he had practically figured it out.

"…Not just dancing."

His amused expression morphed into one of curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"I…" She could feel her throat drying up, making it difficult to speak. "I…am not the most…graceful person."

Joshua raised an eyebrow to her statement. "You aren't the most 'graceful person?' What exactly do you mean by that?"

She turned away and suppressed the urge to sigh again. "It's…not just dancing. I'm…not very…coordinated."

Joshua gave her a look of disbelief before chuckling lightly to himself. "Really now? The Crimson Flash is uncoordinated?"

The sarcasm was thick on his voice. "…It's true." Almost immediately she felt the sting of shame and embarrassment as though she had been slapped across the face.

When she looked back into his face, Joshua's mirth had completely evaporated and was replaced by what appeared to be understanding.

"Well, what do you say we put that claim of yours to the test?" asked Joshua as he held out his hand.

"…What do you mean?" asked Marisa hesitantly.

"What I'm saying, is that I, Joshua, King of Jehanna, am asking you for a dance."

"I…can't." Marisa looked away from him. She once again had that strong urge to simply disappear into the shadows but this time tried to fight it.

"You know," spoke Joshua softly, "you don't have to try and fight this on your own. We can fight your fear together. Isn't it always easier to cut down a tough foe with a reliable partner at your side?"

"…This isn't the same thing," countered Marisa weakly.

"How isn't it? If it's something you are afraid of, then all the more reason you should reach out to someone for help," came Joshua's adamant response.

There were times where Joshua's stubbornness bordered on blatant obstinacy. He never simply let things be, despite how much she sometimes wanted to leave something be. She looked back into his eyes.

"…I can handle this on my own," she said clearly. "You…don't need to try and help me."

Joshua chuckled slightly before giving her a small smile. "I have no doubt you can handle this fear on your own." It was a simple, almost casual statement yet it caused her head to snap up in surprise. His gaze never broke from hers for a moment. "However, I am not going to let you go through it alone."

Marisa let out a sigh. She had heard that insistent tone in Joshua's voice a few times, once during the sociable incident and again when she had been cooking. Whenever he got that tone in his voice, she knew immediately that there was no way out. He was going to accept nothing short of exactly what he wanted. She wasn't sure why, but for some reason she felt a little relieved, as though the pressure upon her shoulders had lessened ever so slightly.

Joshua stood there, a gentle smile upon his face. Neither spoke a word for several minutes, only the sound of the wind on the dunes carried to the hall.

"What is it you are afraid of? Is it the actual act of dancing or something else?" he asked.

"It's…" she fidgeted slightly as she tried to grasp the right words to articulate her answer. "…Pride."

"Pride?" repeated Joshua.

"…I've…never been very graceful."

"I see." He began to pace again, almost like some sort of detective. "You don't care about what others think, which means you're afraid of injuring your pride again like when you were younger-" stated Joshua before his eyes locked onto her expression and stopped. "You've," he said with a look of surprise, "never danced before?"

She mentally sighed again. Somehow he always managed to decipher the matter perfectly despite how little she said. "No…never," she replied.

"Seriously?" asked Joshua. "I can't believe you've never danced simply because you were afraid."

Marisa felt a sting from that statement. "That's not why," she retorted a little too quickly. "…Why would it be so surprising anyway?"

"Because you're Marisa." For a moment her stoic expression faltered and gave way to confusion. "And I know that you'd never allow yourself to live for so long without trying to beat something that you are afraid of. You're the person who gets up to climb the mountain again, no matter how times you slip or fall down."

She felt shocked and also a bit embarrassed by his words. It wasn't just his statement, but the sheer faith and confidence he had in his words that surprised her. "…Of course not." she replied firmly.

Joshua's smile only deepened as he held out his hand once again. "So then, shall we?"

Marisa looked from his hand to his face and back. "Shall we what?"

He laughed lightly. "Shall we go?"

Marisa looked away and allowed her stoic expression to reclaim its place on her face. "I don't need you to escort me back to my room."

This time Joshua laughed louder. "You know what I meant. I thought you were attempting to face your fear of dancing."

"Attempt…" she muttered softly to herself. Joshua walked over and grabbed her hand with his own before giving her a tug towards the floor.

"So, let's get to it, right?" teased Joshua. Despite the feeling in her stomach, she allowed herself to be led further onto the floor. When they reached the center, Joshua stopped and looked straight at her. They couldn't have been more than a few inches apart.

"Relax," he said reassuringly. "I'm right here. Remember, this isn't something you need to do on your own."

Marisa numbly nodded and could feel his hand grip hers firmly while the other rested lightly upon her waist. She was still somewhat dazed and confused at how she now found herself in this situation. More importantly, just how had Joshua managed to get her to talk about something so personal and intimate?

He had pressed upon her, nudged her…really, he had bullied her into staying and talking. But, it wasn't exactly bullying and she certainly wasn't one to allow herself be pushed around so easily. She remembered how Joshua had pushed the statesmen and mercenaries, even gone so far as to threaten the lives of a group that tried to intimidate Joshua with open revolt. There was a tough, almost frightening side to Joshua that would get what he wanted one way or another however, that was not the side that had managed to get her to open up. It was the Joshua that was always by her side with his playful smile and firm presence, who refused to take her silence or no for an answer, and who refused to allow her to go through something alone despite not understanding or knowing what it may be.

Somehow that Joshua had managed to get her to talk about things that she had kept close to her heart or never thought she would think about again. As she allowed the warmth from his hands to permeate her being, she came to a startling realization.

It was so obvious and surprising she wondered if he noticed it as well. She relied upon him.

Sharing a fear wasn't like sharing a dream late at night. It was more than simply discussing how many charms she had acquired or drinking tea. She had shared something that was personal, intimate, and private. It was something that seemed to go against everything she had been taught.

She had shared a weakness. She had given him an opening - an angle from which he could hurt her, frighten her or torment her. What she realized more than that though was that she was allowing him - no relying on him - to help her, to give her the strength to face this fear.

She had admitted that for once, her strength alone was not enough. She needed – wanted - his help so she didn't have to do it alone.

"You ready?" His voice shook her from her thoughts and she found herself looking back into his calm crimson eyes. She gave a slow nod before she felt her body move with his.

"We'll take it slow," spoke Joshua softly. "Just follow my movements."

Somehow simply following Joshua proved to be much more difficult than she anticipated. Half of her brain attempted to remember what Tethys had been saying to Joshua earlier that very day while the other half was partially paying attention but was also distracted by something else entirely. As a result, she stepped on Joshua's foot more times than she cared to admit before the two stopped.

"Take it easy," he said, his voice still soft. "I could give you all the details Tethys gave me about a waltz being in three or something like that, but I have a hunch it would make just about as much sense to you as it did to me."

"…We should stop," muttered Marisa.

"You're doing fine." Joshua smiled. "One more time, all right?"

He moved again, this time slightly faster than before. She tried to clear her mind and focus instead upon his movements like before. Things were going somewhat smoother although she still stepped on his feet and even once stepped on her own, causing her to nearly fall had Joshua not caught her arm.

She looked back up at Joshua to tell him to stop but saw he still had the gentle, reassuring smile on his face. Numbly, she slipped his hand into his once again.

"You know," said Joshua, "dancing and swordplay are often viewed as one in the same thing."

She looked up at him, hope now rising in her chest. "…What do you mean?"

"Think about it. There's a rhythm to your strikes, the 'pulse' of combat I've once heard an instructor call it. Dancing is really no different. There's a pulse to dancing as well. All you have to do is feel it and follow me. You can read my sword better than anyone so I know for a fact you can read and copy my sloppy footwork easily," he finished with a small grin.

She nodded and took a deep breath. She could feel Joshua pull her with her and allowed her body to go with him. It was faint at first but she could feel what he was talking about; it was small, subtle yet quite obviously present: the pulse. Almost immediately, everything seemed to feel more natural. She looked up from Joshua's feet and found that she could now keep in step with him without inflicting any possible injuries to Joshua's feet. A feeling of pride swelled in her chest. Joshua must have noticed the change in her expression because his smile deepened as he suddenly picked her up and spun around before resuming the waltz proper.

She felt a sensation akin to the duels she had with Joshua, that same rush of excitement and energy. As she continued to dance, there was a part of her that couldn't help but wonder why she had held back for so long, why she had allowed such a fear to control her. Her body felt light, almost as though she were moving across the clouds.

After several minutes, the two stopped in place. Joshua had a broad grin on his face and Marisa could feel the corners of her lips turned up in a slight smile of her own. She felt his hand leave her waist and the other one slowly slip from hers. Almost immediately she missed the warmth she had felt from the contact.

"Heh, you know what? You're actually a pretty good dancer, Marisa. Wait 'til I tell Tethys," said Joshua.

"I'd rather you didn't," replied Marisa, her voice no longer soft but firm and confident.

"I suppose I won't have to. She'll find out soon enough anyway," remarked Joshua with a sly grin.

Marisa looked at him curiously, wondering just what he was planning. "…What do you mean?"

He held his hands out to his sides casually. "Well, I mean I figured she'd probably notice during the dance that'll happen at the wedding or festival."

Marisa gave Joshua a confused look. "What…do you-"

"You're coming to the festival in Renais, naturally," answered Joshua promptly.

Her mouth seemed to dry up as she wasn't quite sure what to say to the sudden news. After receiving the invitation, her initial impression had been that only Joshua would be attending.

"You…make it sound like others are coming," she said slowly.

"Obviously Gerik and Tethys are invited since they served under Innes as well as helped all of us during the War of the Stones," replied Joshua. "And you're coming as well. You and I are partners after all, right?"

It was the first time Marisa had ever heard Joshua make mention of the bet they had made that brought her here in the first place. He had never explained to anyone, even Gerik, why she had accompanied him back to Jehanna and no one had ever questioned her or Joshua about the matter.

"I…seem to recall it was just for training and gambling," she suddenly remembered.

"The way you say that, it's almost like you don't want to go," teased Joshua. "Besides, what good are dance lessons if you never get to use them?" She was about to say something when he turned to walk off. "Get a good night's rest, Marisa. We've got a long journey starting tomorrow."

And with that Joshua disappeared around the corner and out of sight before Marisa could utter another word on the matter or any of the events that had transpired that night.

Then again, she thought as a faint smile graced her lips, perhaps she didn't need to say anything after all.

* * *

Author's Notes: It is referenced in one of the character endings that Marisa isn't very coordinated. The idea that a swordswoman like Marisa was uncoordinated seemed odd and this chapter was the result of exploring it. As for the choice of the waltz, that was a bit of artistic liberty. The main reason I chose it was that I remember hearing a conversation once where Renais was mentioned as being closer to a French culture. From there I thought the waltz was the best fit for a type of dance.


	13. Awakening

Chapter 12: Awakening

Though Marisa had attended a couple festivals as a child she didn't have any concrete memories she could recall. What she did remember was more like a series of sensations, sights and sounds that all seemed to blur together. In particular, she could remember vivid bright colors as well as a cacophony of laughter and folk music. There were other vague sensations such as the smell of fresh meat roasting on a spit but they often just smeared together making it impossible for her to discern what anything specifically was.

As she strolled along the cobblestone streets of Renais's capitol, she let out a small sigh of relief. The wedding ceremony had been very elaborate and formal, perhaps too much so for the men of Jehanna. Gerik had actually fallen asleep three times during the whole event and was only able to save face because Tethys was by his side to wake him up before he made a fool of himself. Even Joshua admitted afterwards that he sincerely hoped Ephraim and Tana had a _very_ happy life together because he did not want to attend another one of these anytime soon if he could help it.

Marisa had chosen, wisely in her opinion, to not comment or share any thoughts on the matter.

She continued to walk slowly, listening to the blend of voices along with the scraping of leather against gravel. She was acutely aware of the fact that she was on her own. Joshua was currently off gambling somewhere along with Gerik while Tethys had agreed to give a couple of performances while she was in town.

Joshua had offered for her to join him but she had refused. Gambling had never been a pastime of hers like it was for Joshua or the Chief. She had contemplated joining Tethys but the dancer had simply smiled and encouraged Marisa to get out for a bit and enjoy what Renais had to offer. It wasn't long after though, she found herself wishing she had taken Joshua up on his offer.

What surprised her more was the realization that she missed having the others around her. The thought stopped her for a moment. For years after her father's death, she had avoided social contact with others. She always preferred to work alone and never took jobs that required her to work with another person. The decision to join Gerik's mercenary band had been difficult and at first was something she had greatly regretted. Over time though, she came to love her work with the group and developed strong bonds with the Chief, Tethys, and Ewan. Even more recently, she had agreed of her own volition to become Joshua's partner.

The reversal was almost laughably ironic.

"Marisa!"

The sound of a familiar female voice pulled Marisa out of her thoughts in a heartbeat. She spun around and saw Tana running over to greet her, a broad smile upon her face. At first Marisa didn't recognize her; the plain skirt and tunic she wore stood in stark contrast to the elegant dress she wore last night.

"Tana-" Before Marisa could finish her greeting Tana had already managed to pull Marisa into a surprisingly strong hug.

"I'm so happy to see you Marisa," said Tana. The newly appointed queen of Renais had large smile on her face as she held onto Marisa's hands with her own.

Marisa contemplated something but dismissed it before giving her friend a small smile. "It's…good to see you as well, Tana."

Tana beamed at Marisa's greeting. "I was so surprised to see you at the wedding. Don't get me wrong though," she added upon seeing Marisa's confused expression. "It makes me very happy to know you were here!"

Marisa glanced around and noticed that the two were attracting the attention of the locals. She knew Tana was dressed in less formal clothes, but she found it hard to believe people wouldn't figure out who she was after waving to the city from the balcony. Gripping her hand lightly, Marisa led Tana away from the crowds and to a slightly less crowded street.

"Can't stand the crowds, Marisa?" asked Tana.

"I was more worried about you."

Tana nodded. "I suppose you're right. It's hard for me to wrap my head around it all still." She let out a small sigh. "I am married to Ephraim. I am the Queen of Renais. It all seems so surreal."

"Are you…happy?" asked Marisa. She felt strange asking such a question and it must have shown because Tana couldn't contain a small laugh.

"I'm sorry. I just I never thought I'd hear such a question from you, Marisa," said Tana as her mirth died down. "But yes, I am happy, very happy in fact. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been dreaming about this moment for some time. To finally see it become reality…."

Marisa didn't need Tana to finish her statement to know what she was going to say. "I'm…glad." She gave Tana her best sincere smile she could. Tana returned the gesture with her own smile. "Still, Tana, why are you out here…without-"

"Without Ephraim?" finished Tana. "I'm going to meet him later at the festival but he had some business he said he needed to attend to this morning. I decided to come and partake in the festivities myself. It's not everyday that Renais will be as lively as this after all."

Marisa nodded. "Festivals are…special. It's the one time everyone…can celebrate."

Tana cocked her head in a rather good impression of Marisa. "Are you okay? You almost sound sad about it."

Marisa calmly looked back into Tana's eyes. "No. I'm not sad. I just…remembered."

"Remembered what exactly?"

Marisa mentally sighed. While Tana was nowhere near as subtle as Joshua with her questions and curiosities, she was equally as tenacious. "Not much."

"Come on Marisa. If you're going to bring it up, you might as well say it," replied Tana. The new queen gave Marisa a reassuring smile.

"I don't remember much," continued Marisa as though she hadn't been interrupted. "But I do remember one thing." Marisa took Tana's silence as encouragement to continue. "I always remember my father standing by my side."

Neither said anything for a few moments as they casually strolled down the roads. Tana finally broke the silence, but she spoke in a softer tone than earlier. "Do you miss him?"

Marisa sincerely did not know how to answer the question at first. Her instinctive reaction was to say no. He was a goal to achieve, an obstacle to clear, a mountain to conquer. She had reiterated these words to herself time and time again, defined her very being by them. And yet, she could feel a swell in her chest that wanted to say yes. Despite the way he almost seemed to haunt her dreams, despite the cold and harsh lessons, she still remembered the warmth of his hand as he led her down the marketplace streets of Jehanna and the soft voice that used to lull her to sleep. Perhaps that was why…

"I wonder," Marisa muttered aloud.

"What was that?" asked Tana.

"I think…I finally understand the meaning of my dream," spoke Marisa slowly.

'_He stands not at the top of the mountain to mock me. He's…waiting for me_.'

"Marisa?"

Marisa stopped walking for a moment. '_My father…he's waiting for me, waiting for the day I can stand by him._'

It was strange that it had taken her so long to understand something that had seemed so basic. Maybe she hadn't wanted to understand it or she just hadn't been able to understand it until now.

She turned back to Tana. "Yes, I do miss him."

Tana gave a curt nod. "I'd imagine. I know I'd be lonely without father or Innes."

"I'm not lonely…not anymore at least," added Marisa.

Tana smiled. "That's right. You are the Crimson Flash, a key member of Gerik's mercenaries."

Marisa slowly nodded, a bit surprised by her own thoughts. Her words had immediately conjured up memories of her late night dance lesson with Joshua.

"_I'm right here. You don't need to do this on your own."_

Even though she had spent years in Gerik's mercenaries, even though it had become almost like a second family to her, it was Joshua's memory that had reminded her she was not alone.

"I'm glad to see you're doing well, Marisa," said Tana as the pair rounded a corner. "I am curious though, what did bring you here?"

Marisa cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I know most of the invitations went to royalty and important diplomats so we couldn't invite all of our friends from the War of the Stones. I'm happy to see you, but I was just curious how you managed to get out here."

Marisa gave a slow nod. "I came with Joshua, the Chief, and Tethys."

"Oh, you came with King Joshua," said Tana. "I should have guessed that. I'm a bit surprised though."

Marisa raised an eyebrow. "Surprised about what?"

"That you went back to Jehanna. I always figured you would just travel around the world, constantly honing your skills until you became the best swordswoman in all of Magvel," explained Tana.

Marisa blinked, surprised by how keen Tana's memory was even after all this time. "That was my plan…at first."

"So, what changed?" prompted Tana with a small smile.

"Well…I lost a bet to Joshua."

"A bet?" repeated Tana, her eyes shining with curiosity. "Over what exactly?"

Marisa mentally sighed as she recalled the memory. She still thought the bet Joshua had placed was an odd one. But what was odder, the bet or the fact that she had still agreed to it?

"Whoever won the bet, owed the other something. That…was it."

"And Joshua asked you to come back to Jehanna with him?" asked Tana. The new queen was leaning in much closer than Marisa realized.

"Y-yes. Well, not exactly. He…" She stopped for a moment. "He asked me to be his partner for a time."

Tana pulled back briefly, a wide smile on her face. "I wondered about that. He's changed since I remember him."

Marisa's stoic expression gave way to genuine confusion. "I don't understand."

Tana's smile softened. "I suppose he seems more protective than I remember."

Marisa took a moment to think about the statement. "Perhaps."

"He certainly was last night at the ball," giggled Tana.

Now Marisa was confused. "No one was in danger last night at the ball."

Marisa's statement caused Tana to burst into laughter. "No, not like that. It was a different kind of protective, do you know what I mean?"

Marisa shook her head. She sincerely had no idea what Tana was talking about.

"He seemed happy last night." Tana's mirth had died down, leaving her with a pensive expression. Marisa simply nodded. "You also seemed happy last night."

"I was."

"Marisa…I care about you a lot. You're a good friend."

Marisa turned towards Tana, a bit taken aback by the statement. "I…share similar sentiments."

"I remember when we first met, you rarely ever spoke or showed any emotion," said Tana. "At first I thought you hated me and just wanted me to leave. Eventually though, I learned that you were just bad at expressing yourself. Looking at you now though, you've changed. You may not be very emotional, and I doubt you will be, but this is the first time I think the two of us have ever talked like this."

"I've been told…I've improved," remarked Marisa.

Tana nodded. "More than that though, you seem genuinely happy. You may not smile that much, but I can tell. You just seem…content." Tana smiled. "The way I saw you last night was probably the happiest I've ever seen you. I want you to be happy like that all the time."

"I am happy," replied Marisa. "Whenever I'm with my friends…I'm happy."

"I know," acknowledged Tana. "More than that though, I noticed that you were always happy when you were with Joshua."

Marisa mentally sighed. "Joshua…can be pushy…often."

Tana laughed. "Joshua may encourage you to express yourself, but I don't think you were happy for his sake. I think you simply were happy and," she paused for a moment, "he looked happier with you too."

Marisa blinked once. Then she blinked again. "I'm…confused."

"I care about Joshua like I care about Gerik or even you. We're all friends however, he cares about you differently than I do."

"Tana…what exactly are you getting at?" asked Marisa.

"I saw the way you and he always came together, whether you consciously realized it or not."

"Yes…I suppose. It is not different than how you and I interact now though," Marisa replied.

"It _is _different."

Marisa let out a small sigh, her stoic expression still in place. "I don't see how."

Tana smiled gently. "Don't worry. If you don't understand now, you will eventually. I guarantee he will. From the way Joshua was acting at the ball last night, it may even be sooner than you think."

Marisa cocked her head, quite confused by Tana's words. "Understand what? He was acting like he always does."

"Not exactly," said Tana with a light laugh. "I think if you take a moment to reflect on last night, you'll notice Joshua made certain he was the only one to dance with you. He didn't let anyone else have the chance."

Marisa thought back on last night and just couldn't see it. Joshua had never gotten confrontational with anyone. In fact, he had been quite the jovial and pleasant guest, at least by her judgment.

"I just…don't understand," admitted Marisa finally. "I think you're misreading things."

Tana flashed her another gentle smile. "Perhaps the two of you have become too close." The new queen's expression brightened as she changed the subject. "C'mon! It may be getting into the late afternoon but there's still a lot to do before the sun goes down."

Marisa allowed Tana to lead her off into the thick of the crowds, her mind still muddling over their conversation.

* * *

Joshua took another swig from his canteen before giving the dice one last toss. He watched as the ivory cubes rolled across the table until they finally stopped.

"Snake eyes. Tough luck, pal," commented Gerik as he gave Joshua a firm pat on the shoulder.

"Ah, what can a guy do?" sighed Joshua. "We should best be on our way. Any longer here and I might end up losing more than just some spare change."

"To think you of all people would back away from gambling," joked Gerik as the two passed through the door of the pub and into the crowded streets of Renais.

"Even I know my limits, unlike you," replied Joshua with a knowing and sly smile. Gerik turned away and shrugged his shoulders at the comment.

"It doesn't matter too much," he said.

"Too much? What do you mean by that? The big guy back there cleaned you out."

Gerik dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "All I mean is I could afford to lose that money."

"Oho! Really now?" Joshua teased Gerik as his hand went to his chin in thought. "What on earth could you have spent your money on that would make losing over a hundred gold seem like nothing?"

"Oh, knock it off, Joshua." Gerik picked up his pace somewhat and refused to make eye contact with Joshua, but his actions only fueled Joshua's curiosity further.

"A little flustered, are we?"

"You really don't know the meaning of the phrase 'knock it off,' do you?" replied Gerik as he let out a small sigh.

"Depends. Either you can continue to play quiet until I figure it out, or you can just tell me and save us all a lot of time," replied Joshua with a laugh.

Gerik regarded Joshua with a frustrated look for a moment before finally chuckling. "I suppose that is fair enough. I may be able to beat you at gambling, but certainly not when it comes to this kind of thing."

"A wise move, commander."

Gerik shook his head. "If you really need to know, it's, well…"

Joshua glanced over and couldn't suppress his laughter. He had never seen the man so flustered in his life, not to mention the king of Jehanna thought he detected a faint blush on the man's face.

Gerik took a deep breath. "It's Tethys."

Joshua raised an eyebrow. "And…?"

"I…I'm going to ask her to marry me."

There wasn't a sound for a moment between the two. Gerik was still looking away, purposefully attempting to avoid seeing how Joshua would react to the news. Joshua calmly exhaled and gave his friend a firm pat on the shoulder.

"Congratulations, Gerik."

Gerik looked back and saw a sincere and calm smile upon Joshua's face. "Don't congratulate me yet. I still have to ask her."

Joshua let out a small laugh as the two resumed their walk down the road. "That may be, but I find it hard to believe she would say no, even if you completely lacked any tact when you asked."

Gerik rolled his eyes. "Thanks," he said sarcastically.

"You're welcome," replied Joshua. "Still I never pegged you as the marriage type. Getting a little old?"

"Haha, very funny." Gerik's attention went to the sky. "I hadn't really thought too much about it until this wedding actually. I realized how much times have been changing and I went and bought the ring on a spur of the moment impulse a week ago."

"What held you back?"

"I don't know. I think it was partially just that I couldn't work up the nerve, but I think it was also that I didn't feel I was ready."

"And now you are? That was awfully fast," teased Joshua.

"It was when I saw Ephraim and Tana standing up there. They both looked so happy and I asked myself why I hadn't tried to find that happiness for myself yet."

"And?"

Gerik chuckled. "I couldn't find a good answer as to why I waited so long. So I made up my mind that I'm going to ask Tethys, one way or another."

"You should just tell her what you told me," smiled Joshua. "Heck, she'd probably say yes before you got halfway through your speech."

"I suppose so," muttered Gerik. "For some reason, this helped. Thanks for your ear, Joshua."

"Heh, anytime."

"Although…"

Joshua gave Gerik a quizzical look. "Although?"

"It still doesn't solve the other thing that has been nagging at me for some time," replied Gerik.

Joshua's hand went to the back of his head. "What could be nagging at you more than a wedding proposal?"

"Frankly, you."

Joshua laughed aloud but stopped when Gerik's expression didn't change. "Is this about the time I took nearly all of your company's money? I did warn them-"

"That's not it, Joshua," said Gerik as he shook his head. "I'm talking about you. I know I'm not the fastest rabbit in the pen but I've found something worth devoting my life to. Have you?"

Joshua's smile left his face only to be replaced by a more pensive one. "I suppose you could say that."

"What are you going to do about it?"

The king of Jehanna let out a sigh. "I'm still not sure myself."

"That's odd coming from you. Usually you're the guy who always at least has something in mind."

"Haha, perhaps. In this case though, the game is a little different."

Gerik merely nodded. "You never know…sometimes all people need in these situations is a good push."

"Maybe, but I'd like to think I've been pushing pretty hard," replied Joshua with a grin.

"Joshua! Gerik!"

The two men spun around upon hearing their names called out. Walking towards them from the other end of the street were Tana and Marisa.

Joshua waved back, but stopped when he saw Gerik lean in close for just a second. Gerik's voice was so faint that Joshua wondered if he misheard him at first but the smile on the Desert Tiger's face told him otherwise.

_Heh, good luck indeed_, thought Joshua with a wry smile.

* * *

Marisa was a bit surprised to bump into both the Chief and Joshua given how crowded the streets were. She saw the Chief lean in and whisper something that elicited a smile from Joshua before he walked forth to greet them.

"Fancy seeing both of you here." He turned to Tana and gave a slight bow. "Congratulations once again to you, Your Highness."

Tana smiled sweetly. "Thanks Gerik."

"I'm surprised to see you out without Ephraim by you side," commented Joshua. Tana's eyes widened suddenly as her hands went to her mouth.

"Oh! That's right! I need to go meet Ephraim before the last celebration of the festival tonight!" exclaimed Tana. "I'm sorry Marisa, it looks like I won't be able to show you those shops like I'd hoped."

Marisa shook her head. "It's fine."

"Thanks! I'll see you all later!" Tana quickly bade farewell to the trio of friends and hurried back towards Renais Castle.

"Heh, it is getting late, isn't it?" said Gerik to no one in particular. "I suppose I should head back as well."

"Time for bed already?" remarked Joshua with a playful grin.

"Heh, no. Tethys said that she would be back after the afternoon performances. I told her I would meet her back at the castle before the climax this evening."

"What is supposed to happen tonight?" asked Marisa.

"Apparently it's going to be something big. Tethys seems to have all the answers but she isn't spilling the beans on any of it," sighed Gerik. "Anyway, I'll catch you two later. Perhaps we'll see each other tonight."

"Take care, Gerik," bade Joshua as the Desert Tiger flashed the two one last smile before heading back to the castle as well.

Marisa watched as Gerik disappeared around the corner, her thoughts still elsewhere. She felt a light poke to her forehead and suddenly was acutely aware of just how close Joshua was standing in front of her. It took all of her mental focus to keep her stoic expression from faltering from the surprise.

"Glad to see you're still awake. I was worried for a moment," laughed Joshua.

"I…I'm fine. Sorry," muttered Marisa. "Just lost in my thoughts for a bit."

Joshua looked at her curiously. "Really? That isn't like you."

That statement stopped her for a moment. He was right. It _wasn't_ like her. She shook her head and dismissed it as merely something to do with the weather. This whole arrangement had been strange, particularly since Joshua had more or less forced her to come.

Joshua's voice broke through her train of thought. "Gerik's got a point, you know."

Marisa glanced towards Joshua. "What do you mean?"

Joshua casually shrugged his shoulders. "The festival will be over soon. You can already see the sun starting to set behind the castle walls." He paused for a moment. She couldn't stifle her curiosity as to what he was about to say. He turned and flashed her a grin. "Shall we go hit up those shops Tana suggested?"

Marisa internally groaned. While she had been grateful for Tana's company, Tana's constant stopping at each and every vendor along the way had grown rather tedious. Marisa wasn't sure what scared her more, the fact that she had managed to go through it for the past few hours or that Tana still wanted to keep going.

"I'd…rather not," Marisa stated firmly. Her words elicited a laugh from Joshua.

"I figured as much." His voice became somewhat softer. "I've got a better idea. C'mon!"

Before Marisa could react, Joshua had enclosed her hand with his own hand. The sudden contact made her freeze for a moment before she felt him pulling her behind him. As the two dashed down the road, Marisa contemplated asking Joshua where he was taking her but she had a hunch he wouldn't tell her if she asked. As they neared the end of the road, Marisa heard distinct nasal sound of reed instruments and the plucked timbre of a mandolin.

"Ah, so we didn't miss it after all," said Joshua as he let out a sigh of relief. Marisa looked around the corner and stopped, a faint, small smile gracing her stoic features. The central plaza was filled with countless people, some from Renais but others clearly from other countries. At the center near the stone fountain was a small but lively group of minstrels. All of them were dancing, some just as couples, others in coordinated patterns as large groups.

"Shall we?" Marisa looked back to Joshua and saw him offer her his arm. He gave a brief nod towards the dancing masses. Marisa gave him a small nod before taking his arm and following him into the plaza.

As she felt Joshua's hand rest upon her waist, she could feel the warmth from his hand travel through her body. For some reason, her mind felt so scattered at the moment. It was a strange sensation. Usually she always had complete control of her emotions and thoughts, yet for some reason everything was such a jumble that she couldn't seem to make heads or tails of anything. The one thing she noticed was that it had become particularly punctuated whenever she was around Joshua.

It begged the question that had been nagging at her since Tana talked to her: why?

She could feel him pull her with him, the rhythm of the music easily guiding her footsteps where only days ago she had been tripping over herself. He had a gentle smile on his face, his eyes never leaving hers as they swayed back and forth through the hordes of people.

Were Joshua's actions last night truly that different or strange? He had merely talked with the guests and they left of their own volition, did they not? Tana's words continued to nag at her though.

Joshua somehow had managed to drive away other men who were talking to her. He hadn't been confrontational or aggressive. He had been just like she always remembered him, the man with a quick wit and calm smile.

She was so confused. She was briefly pulled from her thoughts as a cold gust of wind blew through the plaza. She could feel Joshua pull her closer, almost as though to shield her from the wind. As she inhaled, she immediately recognized the distinct scent that belonged to him. She could feel a wave of nostalgia run through her body, back to when he had first given her his scarf during the snowfall.

Something stirred within her, as though she had discovered the first clue to solving the mystery. She wasn't quite sure how to describe it. It was a mixture of fear and inevitability, akin to the feelings she would often feel right before an important fight.

Anticipation.

For some time now, she realized that a kernel of an idea had managed to lodge itself in her brain. She had attempted to dismiss it yet the thought was tenacious, and continued to linger no matter what she did. Even though she knew it was there, she refused to acknowledge it or give it any matter of importance. Now though, she couldn't seem to ignore it, couldn't stop remembering things, and most importantly, noticing things during her interaction with Joshua.

When she was paralyzed by her fear of dancing, she was reminded of Joshua's calm and warm presence. She couldn't seem to shake the feeling of Joshua's hand in hers or how he had managed to calm her simply by holding it.

Somehow that memory immediately brought up the feeling of happiness she had felt when Joshua asked her to return with him to Jehanna after the War of the Stones. But more importantly, she was reminded of how his words calmed her and reassured her. His words always brimmed with faith in her abilities, even when she didn't have any faith in herself.

That memory spun into the one from that morning when he found her cooking for her deceased father. She had been wary to entrust the real reason to him, yet Joshua's earnest smile somehow reassured her that he truly did care. It made her feel safe.

More of the memories kept coming, each one serving as a reminder to her of every way Joshua had been aware of her, every way he had let her know he was there for her. Not just recently, but since the two had first met.

The sudden insight startled her, like the shock from a Thunder tome. Judging from Joshua's expression, she must have not quite been able to hide it either. She was aware of the music finally dying down as the various groups and couples broke off before the final celebration.

"Marisa, are you all right?" His voice was soft, concerned.

"I'm…fine." She paused for a moment, knowing full well that wasn't completely the truth. "Can…I have a moment?"

Joshua gave her a clear look of understanding before nodding. "Sure. Take your time."

* * *

Joshua watched Marisa disappear around the corner. As he stood there, the gentle flow of the fountain behind him, it occurred to him that he did not know exactly where Marisa stood right now.

When he heard those words from her, his instinctual reaction had been to call out to her, to make a joke and help talk her through it, but he ultimately decided against it. For her to ask for time was something that had never happened before.

He could tell that there was a slight change in her behavior around him. She seemed much more lost in thought, to the point where she wasn't even aware sometimes of her surroundings. Once or twice he could see the cracks appear in her stoic expression, possibly trying to give way to something else.

Joshua wasn't sure what Marisa and Tana had talked about, but somehow he got the feeling it was more than just a discussion of memories. If he had to put a word to it, Marisa seemed overwhelmed.

He let out a sigh, half wishing he had a pipe to smoke right now. He worried that perhaps he had gone too far sometimes. Trying to read Marisa was like trying to read a book in the dark with a faint light from the far corner of the room. It was incredibly difficult and even with the proper angle one still could misread what was there. At the same time, he wasn't sure how else to approach her other than to keep trying what he had been doing so far.

He leaned back against the fountain as the purple of the evening took the last shades of red and the last bit of day with it. He would wait. He had decided that after their second duel. He would wait for her, no matter how long it took. When she was ready, he would be there.

* * *

Marisa numbly walked down one of the cobblestone streets. As she continued to reflect on her thoughts, Tana's earlier words rang loud and clear through her head.

"_I can guarantee he will let you know soon enough."_

Could that have been what he was doing last night at the ball? Was he letting her know? Had he been trying to all along, in all their past encounters?

"_You and I are partners after all, right?"_

Partners. There was more to it though than just that. She knew that now without question. As she pondered the matter further, she began to wonder. If he made a point of spending more of his time with her, did that show others that he enjoyed being with her? The two had become great friends. The friendship she shared with Joshua was unlike anything she had ever had with anyone, not even her relationship with her father felt as strong as what she felt with her bond with Joshua.

Yet, lately in particular, he seemed more forward than he had in the past. His casual touches had become more commonplace.

If she was honest with herself though, she had to admit that she didn't mind it. In fact, she actually rather enjoyed it. When Joshua held her hand, she felt warm and safe. His touch was like a spark that managed to send a current throughout the rest of her body. When he held her hand like that, she felt alive.

At first that hadn't been the case she realized. It had made her hypersensitive to things, like the smell of his breath, the pulse of his aura, the heat from his skin…

If he made a point of reaching out to her, was that his way of showing how he felt? If he denied other men the chance to dance with her, was that his way of trying to show that he liked her?

The last thought froze Marisa dead in her tracks.

At first her mind rejected the idea. It just seemed ludicrous to assume such a thing, yet she couldn't deny the evidence that supported the idea.

The answer couldn't be clearer: Joshua _liked_ her.

Her. He chose to spend his time with her above all else. He worried about her and did whatever he could to make her happy. She had seen it many times over the past months and year. What she hadn't known, hadn't been able to see, was his gentleness and the way it made something in her chest swell until it felt like it was about to burst. Her chest felt tight and it felt like a ball of hot lead was rolling around in her stomach.

Was she in love?

If there was one thing in the world she understood little, it was love. She had nothing to compare it to or any experiences she could reflect upon. Certainly she had heard the ballades and epics as a child but they seemed insufficient to describe what she felt at the moment.

She was at least familiar with attraction. This though…this was something else entirely. Was it love? She wasn't sure.

A flash of light and a loud bang overhead shook her out of her thoughts. She noticed that the evening had finally set in full as lights littered the streets. A spark of light caught her eye and she watched as the firework sailed into the air before exploding in a brilliant shower of color. Around her she heard the children shout out in excitement. Her gaze drifted towards the fountain where Joshua stood, one hand resting on his hip. His back was turned to her, his gaze directed skyward.

Looking back, Marisa would probably say that it was like the calm before the storm, or in this case a realization. As she looked back at the sky, she was surprised at how calm her mind felt now. The questions lingered there, but they no longer nagged at her as they had; the answers were now so clear and obvious it seemed hard to believe she had overlooked them for so long.

When she felt Joshua's presence around her, all of her emotional restraint and control, all of her father's introverted teachings were thrown aside leaving only one fact: She wanted, more than anything, to feel Joshua's arms around her and to feel the warmth of his aura envelop her. Somehow, she knew that he wanted the same as well.

As another explosion went off overhead, she slowly took one step after another towards the fountain. She stopped right behind him, not saying a single word, yet she could tell that he knew she was right behind him from how stiff his stance was.

He didn't make a movement and for a moment she doubted herself. What if she had made a mistake or come to the wrong conclusion? She could always take a step back; it was her last chance to do so. If she was wrong, if she had misinterpreted everything up until now…then this would be her last chance to back away and save herself the pain and humiliation.

She took a deep breath and reached for his hand hanging by his side. As her hand touched his, his fingers meshed together with hers as he turned around to face her. She felt that same shock as his warmth spread throughout her body. She exhaled, leaning back slightly to watch as another spark of light exploded into a shower of color. She felt him exhale as well and his body relaxed considerably.

His fingers tightened around hers as he pulled her flush against him, his head resting on her shoulder as his other arm wrapped around her waist. Almost instinctively, she wrapped her arm around him as well and allowed her head to rest against his chest. She could hear his heartbeat and feel it pulse throughout her body with each thump. She was sure that if he hadn't been holding her close, she would be shaking but she didn't move.

Not even when he turned his head up to the sky to watch the last of the fireworks explode in a fountain of golden light.

* * *

Author's Notes: Not much to say. This is the culminating chapter of Grains of Sand and I hope it was as enjoyable for you to read as it was for me to write.


	14. Epilogue: Chance

Epilogue: Chance

His relationship with Marisa was one of wordless communication. Their relationship had morphed significantly since their first encounter. One could even say it snowballed into something much larger, but somehow they managed to say the most important things without saying anything at all. Even if it was something small, such as how one took their tea. Still, as Joshua sat cross-legged in the garden of Jehanna Hall, there was a part of him that wished Marisa were more forthcoming with words.

It had been over a month since the festival in Renais and, much to Joshua's relief, she finally understood how she felt. At first he had been worried; while she had clearly sought out his embrace, he also knew she wasn't the kind to be forward with her emotions. She didn't pull away and during the journey back home, nothing seemed different between the two of them.

The differences started when they finally made it back to Jehanna Hall. They were subtle, never really spoken, and sometimes almost instinctual. He would pass her in the halls and seek out her hand for a brief moment with his own. She would not flinch away from him and eventually began to return the gesture. He noticed a difference in her eyes as well; he couldn't quite describe it but it was almost like her eyes shone with more life than they did before.

At Gerik and Tethys's wedding, he could feel her sit closer to him, and during the dance following he pulled her close to him and felt her accept it without question as though it were the natural thing to do.

Joshua leaned back as he felt the rays of the sun hit his face, warming him through, as he attempted to clear his mind. He had not regularly meditated since the death of his father. His mother had often encouraged the practice, and even Carlyle supported the idea but for years Joshua had rejected the practice because of the memories it conjured. It wasn't until after his dream that one night, after his talk with Marisa, that he decided to take up meditation once again.

He emptied his mind and allowed the sounds and sensations around him to fill the void he created. As he sat there, the scent of the desert rose wafted gently into his nose. He opened his eyes and glanced across to where the five-petal flower lay. The pale white flared from the center of the petal to a bright crimson at the edges. Joshua couldn't suppress a smile; the flower served as a reminder in more ways than one.

Marisa seemed happier as well he noted. True, she didn't show it through her emotions, but he noted the small changes in her behavior or the way she talked. She seemed more willing to talk with him, and even asked him to join her a couple times on the ramparts of the castle to gaze at the stars. On those nights, he could swear he even saw the faintest trace of a smile as the two sat together.

Joshua leaned back a moment and took in a deep breath. As he exhaled, he opened his eyes and stood up. He saw the servants go about their business as usual while he spotted a couple of his councilmen discussing something intently.

_The more things remain the same, the more they seem to change_, mused the king to himself.

He knew that he should head to the training grounds soon. Marisa would be waiting for him like she always did for their sparing session. As his thoughts drifted back to her, he let out a small sigh. While he enjoyed his word games, there were times where he favored a much more straightforward approach, particularly once he made up his mind about something. With Marisa, he had known since he realized his feelings for her that he could never do that even if he wanted to. He craned his neck back as he mulled over his thoughts.

"Argh, this is getting nowhere," muttered Joshua aloud.

As he turned to leave, he slipped his hands into his coat pockets. He felt his hand graze something smooth and cool to the touch. He pulled it out and immediately recognized it as the gold piece he had used in many a bet. A playful grin came to his face as he rolled the coin over in his hand.

_Why not?_

He gave the coin a flip and caught it. He briefly glanced at the result before pocketing the piece and making his way to the training grounds. Joshua was surprised at how relaxed he felt despite the inevitability of the upcoming duel. While he enjoyed his little sparing sessions with Marisa, some of the more recent duels had been even closer than usual. Generally they always resulted in a tie, but he had made some pretty desperate moves to secure just a draw in these last few matches.

Since the one duel Joshua won, the two hadn't ever placed a bet on their little skirmishes. He knew that Marisa would never request such a thing considering she didn't care much for his gambling habits, but he found it strange that he hadn't pursued it. Was he too distracted by his duties as king or was it simply he didn't want to risk losing?

He stopped midstride and chuckled. The thought was one he had never thought would cross his mind; it was so foreign to him he couldn't do anything but laugh. There were plenty of things worth fearing in life, but for him, the ever-eager gambler, to be afraid of losing was just painfully ironic.

He pushed the door to the barracks open and proceeded down the narrow hallway until he came across a mostly dirt field. Standing in the middle of the field was Marisa, her shamshir gleaming in the early morning sunlight. Joshua leaned against a nearby pillar and watched as she went through the motions she had practiced countless times before. Every time Joshua watched her practice, he was reminded of the smooth flow of a river. Her sword was fluid, graceful, yet unquestionably strong. She finished the last maneuver and sheathed the sword at her side.

"Don't tire yourself out too soon, Marisa," spoke up Joshua as he made his presence known.

Marisa glanced over in his direction before turning to face him. "Don't worry. It was just a warm-up. I'm still fresh."

"Heh, I'm counting on it," replied Joshua with a playful grin. "Shall we?"

Marisa nodded before strolling over to the opposite side of the field.

"Before we start," said Joshua suddenly, "what do you say we make this duel interesting?"

"You want to place a bet?" asked Marisa. "Fine, name your terms."

"Heh, I like someone who's eager. Why not go with the same bet and terms as before?" suggested Joshua. Marisa nodded her consent.

Joshua nodded and steeled himself. He could feel the anticipation and excitement begin to coarse through his veins. His eyes locked onto Marisa, as he braced himself for the inevitable beginning.

Marisa made the first move this time. He watched as she swooped in, her blade aiming clearly for his left flank. Joshua reacted quickly and deflected the strike with his own before going in for a left hand punch. To his surprise, Marisa spun smoothly under his jab and elbowed him in the ribs, sending him reeling backwards.

He would have liked a moment to recover but he knew Marisa wasn't going to give it to him. He saw her lunge forward with a thrust. He dropped low, supporting himself with his left hand, before he performed a sweeping kick to knock her off balance. Marisa barely back stepped in time to avoid the move.

Joshua stood up and could feel his breathing return to normal despite the slight pain he felt in his chest. So far he had been playing the defensive. If this kept up, he knew it would only be a matter of time before Marisa wore him down. After countless duels together, he and Marisa knew each other's movements almost as well as their own. As his head cycled through the various possibilities, he realized that she had seen and would likely recognize any one he tried. He only had one option left.

_It all comes down to this_, thought Joshua calmly. This was a duel he couldn't afford to lose anymore.

Joshua charged straight at Marisa, his blade pulled back for a thrust. He watched as Marisa spun in a fluid circle to cut him off. Before their blades collided, Joshua pushed off the ground and performed a full flip over Marisa, landing perfectly behind her. The maneuver surprised her, giving Joshua the opening he needed.

His blade clashed against hers in a symphony of steel, which rang out over the entire training grounds. Joshua's thoughts couldn't even keep up with what he was seeing; his body instinctively moved to strike. Marisa's blade would appear to meet it only for Joshua to immediately strike at another spot.

Marisa finally slammed her blade up into his, stopping his vertical chop mid-strike. He didn't flinch for a moment. He flipped the sword to the flat and ran it along the surface of Marisa's sword, sending out a shower of sparks. Caught completely off guard, Marisa barely leaned back enough to watch as the tip of Joshua's sword passed in front of her face. Joshua seized the opportunity and launched one last uppercut with his sword.

There was a ring of metal and then silence. Finally there was a soft thud and then everything was quiet once again.

Joshua stood, panting, his sword held inches away from Marisa's throat. She appeared to be in shock. Glancing to her side, she saw her shamshir resting with its point burrowed into the ground a few feet from her. She looked back at Joshua and saw he had a proud smile on his face.

"I win."

Marisa slowly nodded. "Fairly this time as well."

"Heh, true."

"You won the bet," she said slowly, wondering what Joshua would ask of her this time.

Joshua thrust his own sword into the ground and took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"I want you…I want you to be my partner." His hand went to the back of his head. "But, I don't want it just to be for a while. I…want you by my side until I can no longer draw breath."

He had said it. Was it the right move though? Had he made a mistake? He watched as she blinked once, then again. The silence was starting to get to him and he started to question his action.

"Marisa," he said softly. "You don't need to accept this. This is not a demand or an order; it's a request." She still didn't say anything.

He couldn't suppress the sad smile that came to his face. He turned his back to her. "Marisa, I-"

He stopped when he felt Marisa's hands on his back. Slowly, he felt her hands move from his back to his own as she rested her head between his shoulders.

"I'll do it," she said softly. "I accept."

Joshua turned around and saw her averting her gaze, the faintest hint of a smile still on her face. He couldn't contain the smile that came to his face. He pulled her close to him, his head resting atop hers, taking in her scent, her warmth, everything he possibly could at that moment. He could feel her lean against him, burying her face in his coat.

After what felt like an hour, the two stepped back for a moment. Still grinning, Joshua took Marisa's hand in his and pressed his lips to it.

"Shall we go share the news with Gerik and the others?" asked Joshua.

Marisa leaned against him for a moment longer. "Not yet. I want to stay here for a bit."

"As you wish."

The two sat there for several minutes in content silence, even as the sun started to take its rightful place high in the sky. Joshua looked up at the sky and muttered a soft thank you.

"Joshua," spoke up Marisa suddenly.

"Yes?"

"What were you whispering?"

Joshua smiled. "I was thanking Lady Luck, for helping me decide to finally ask you."

He reached into his coat pocket and extracted the gold piece he had used earlier. He handed it to Marisa. She rolled the coin over for a moment, a quizzical look on her face.

"What is it?"

"Joshua, this coin is the same on both sides."

He couldn't help but burst into laughter. In hindsight, one could say they were like two grains of sand, brought together despite the infinite chances of being pulled apart by the world. As he looked at Marisa, Joshua realized he wasn't entirely sure what would happen in the future. Ultimately though, it didn't matter; they'd figure it out together, like they always had.

After all, there were some things even Lady Luck could not defy.

* * *

Author's Notes: Well, that's a wrap. I felt the last chapter ended a bit more open ended than most people would have liked and so I wrote this epilogue to try and cleanly tie off the story.I would like to thank you for taking the time to read through this little series of moments. If you have any comments or criticisms for the story, or just want to say what your favorite moment was, let me know!

I would also like to extend a thank you once more to barefootbean for her excellent services as my beta reader. Thank you for your helpful comments and criticisms.

Until next time,

Bartholomew Kamiro


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